


The Awakening

by yeonglo



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Romance, Interspecies, M/M, Witchcraft, Wizard/Familiar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-03-03 17:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2858681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeonglo/pseuds/yeonglo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was tradition to offer a familiar to young sorcerers on their fifth birthday, right before they entered the Magic Academy — at that age, they were old enough to understand witchcraft, but still had a whole lifetime ahead to bond with their new charge.<br/>When Junhong turned five, his parents gave him a skateboard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Huge "thank you" to the wonderfully amazing [Zara](http://yixingsmelody.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing everything since day one. ♡  
> The tags (as well as rating, warnings...) will be updated as the story goes; to lessen spoilers. The first part will contain eight chapters, and the second is still in the work!

It was tradition to offer a familiar to young sorcerers on their fifth birthday, right before they entered the Magic Academy — at that age, they were old enough to understand witchcraft, but still had a whole lifetime ahead to bond with their new charge.

When Junhong turned five, his parents gave him a skateboard.

 

He lived a peaceful childhood away from the city; not in the countryside as one would call it, but in an eventless little town where spring seemed to linger six months a year. His parents never hid the existence of wizardry or the nature of their beings to him, though their reluctance about teaching him was evident.

Junhong was curious, however — he wondered why he couldn’t use his magic, why he couldn’t have a familiar of his own and what his purpose was. His questions were never properly worded, and for the ones that were, they never met any answer, yet the child held tightly onto the hope that things would change. He yearned for the day he would finally be able to present himself as he really was, a wizard in its whole glory, or at least understand why he had such honour denied, but in the meantime, Junhong had to accept the destiny his parents had chosen for him: the human, magic-less life, with its usual comforting routine and meaningless twists.

 

At least once a year, they would disappear with both of their foxes, usually for a week but at times even a month. Left alone, Junhong would put his free time to benefit by doing researches in his parents’ abundantly-garnished attic, a huge room packed with magical utensils, books seeming to come from another time and herbs and spices that tinted every little artefact with their peppery smell.

In spite of his blatant difficulties to read and write, the kid grabbed snippets of random facts from the Magical Records here and there. Encyclopaedia and History Books were still tedious to read, though, and what the child enjoyed the most was going through  _The Official Manual To Familiars_ , as the book was mostly constituted of engravings’ reproductions and beautiful sketches. He would spend entire afternoons looking at the various creatures and trying to understand how  _claims_  and  _soul-sharing_  worked — to little avail, he had to confess.

What Junhong understood however, was that each wizard had their own familiar, regardless of their social rank or power. It was a constant, one that had never been disrupted; and if everyone could have their very own companion, Junhong, who wasn’t less of a wizard than other pure-blooded folks, could too. Truth be told, that thought alone cheered him up enough to pull through the loneliest days.

Once Junhong’s parents returned, they would sleep off their long trip for a week, while he would still have to take care of the house by himself, yet couldn’t access the attic anymore for fear of getting caught. Then, almost all of a sudden, everything would be normal once again, clicking back into place. Junhong wouldn’t ask questions, acting as though he could accept the circumstances as they were, with no explanation needed. As a matter of fact, as much as he enjoyed staying alone in the attic for weeks, he knew such situation was as far from being “human” as could be, and the child felt as though he was forbidden to seek the truth about it.

 

The summer preceding his eighth birthday, his parents, once again, left him home alone.  
The trip was supposed to be only eight days long, yet they came back unexpectedly early, three days later, looking like they were returning from Hell after a tea party with Death. Min, his mother’s fox, was missing. His father had a dislocated shoulder and a broken nose, his mother limped heavily, but otherwise, they seemed fine.

Soon after, Junhong’s parents announced to him that his father had received an interesting job opportunity at the other side of the continent, that no, Junhong couldn’t follow them, and no, it had nothing to do with their last trip or Min’s death. He would join the boys’ school in the city and live with his classmates in a dormitory. Mom and dad would still come to see him sometimes, just, not often.  
Junhong didn’t understand why they abruptly decided to leave him behind, abandoning him in a world that obviously wasn’t theirs, but still tried his best not to blame them. They had to have good reasons, they had to.

 

He didn’t see them again after he entered high school. They often sent him letters, pictures, postcards, but they never seemed too keen on the idea of coming back to see him or letting him come home for the holidays. They still paid his school fees every semester and he had a well garnished bank account under his name; which wasn’t quite filling the crushing emptiness in his chest. Junhong grew used to it though, he perfectly understood he had to accept what he couldn’t change nor fight for, and simply gave up on anything related to what used to be his family.

 

After successfully graduating, Junhong had no doubt about which university he wanted to join. The problem was, you couldn’t  _randomly_  enter the Magic Academy — you joined when you were five and stayed for twenty years. Some rare beings joined later, in their early teens, after their parents taught them the fundamentals themselves. But a eighteen year old, familiar-less wizard with no prior experience of magic or basic knowledge about creatures and history trying to pass a jury was absolutely unheard of. As far as he knew, his bloodline hadn’t bred any heroes, he had no high-ranked family friend to recommend him, no allies.

Reasonably, Junhong decided to wait before presenting himself to the Academy. He couldn’t change the fact that he had no familiar, but he was intent on catching up with all the training he hadn’t done, all the knowledge he hadn’t acquired. Finding a specialised library near his flat was surprisingly easy once he knew what the recognition symbol was (two straight lines of different lengths crossing, and four huge dots at each of their ends), and soon enough, he became a regular there. The librarian helped him a lot, recommending him the best books to learn the basics fast. He still found it quite insulting that he sometimes had to buy children tales, but he had to start from somewhere, and indeed, beginning an apprenticeship as an adult was pretty uncommon.

 

Junhong didn’t enjoy brewing potions — they needed a terrible amount of precision in the dosage, required ingredients he would have never heard of, along with perfectly timed and efficient moves during their preparation, and they had a very limited power. They were more useful for healing and little tweaks (he used the energising position at least three times a week), but for attack or protection, for everything that was more than simply life compliant, spells were undeniably the best. They were powerful, limitless. They could do  _anything_.

However, to cast a spell properly, you had to pronounce each words perfectly and with conviction. You couldn’t hesitate or cut yourself off mid-sentence once you had gathered your magic, otherwise the damage would be immense. Spells could back fire if you used them without enough power or energy — potions were rendered pretty useful in such cases. They were way more dangerous, but also,  _exciting_. Junhong tried to stay wise with in his learning though, and didn’t favour spell books more than History’s.

Magic Records turned out to be funnier to read than what he would have expected. He learned about the wars, the struggling unity, the pact of peace with humanity and the promise to blend in and stay discreet. He learned about the rebels, the scientists, the heroes and the leaders. He learned about various kind of creatures that all went extinct because they were considered threatening to mankind — their disappearance engendered the loss of thousands of potions (about two third) as they required their body parts, a bit of their blood, or sometimes even something as benign as a scale or fur. Some potions were rewritten, less forceful but still efficient, whereas some went forgotten, sounding as far from reality as legends could be.

 

Junhong learned how to control his own powers, the art of conjuring fire in his palm or wind around him, only by thought and will. The task was by far the most difficult one — something considered as simple as telekinesis wasn’t supposed to make him lose consciousness, he wasn’t supposed to feel so exhausted after materialising glowing stardust around him, and it was certainly surprising that he still had nosebleed every time he practiced telepathy.

But he had read that wizards without familiars were weakened, past the whole loneliness and fragile mental state; that their magic suffered as much as their solitary hearts. Sometimes, their magic would even drain out in their teenage years, and the witches would either die through terrible sufferings or remain stuck in a human body, with a human soul. It had scared Junhong, but since he was doing great on his own so far, he convinced himself he was apart of the seventy-height remaining percents of the familiar-less wizards — among the ones that did just fine with their weakened magic and fragile state of mind ( _tsk_ ).

 

The librarian — Jongup, he had learned — also helped him with his training. He explained him more thoroughly to him points he didn’t get in the books, made him recite over and over again the same (harmless) spell until his diction was clear and confident, and made a point of honour to obtain the best herbs for Junhong’s potions.  
Sometimes, he would spend the whole day at the athenaeum, experiencing different mixes of ingredients in the back room or simply reading next to Jongup’s desk.

 

Jongup had been suspicious at first, when Junhong had bursted through the entrance months ago and asked for  _“real magical books for total beginners”_. He thought he had to deal with a bold, too adventurous human (who were more numerous than expected, and a real pain, according to the elder), and had earnestly grilled him about his bloodline, witchcraft’s history and his familiar. Junhong had answered honestly to all of the queries, and Jongup chose to believe him; he didn’t ask any more personal question to the younger afterward, which Junhong was endlessly thankful for.

 

Jongup’s familiar was a wolf with an extremely thick fur, that still did a poor job at hiding its muscular body. It was significantly bigger than its counterpart, its colossal form easily two feet taller than Junhong when it was standing on its back legs, and saying that its paws were massive would have been a complete understatement. Its pelage was all in shades of dark brown, if not for its cream mask and collar, which descended down to its belly. The wolf had a little tuft of black hair, above its — his, Jongup always corrected him — head, and his huge, sharp ears raised ridiculously high every time something special caught his attention or that Jongup called his name.  _Daehyun_.

Junhong was struck by how incredibly human the canine’s eyes looked, or how he would sometimes let out little gasps and sneezes, which sounded strangely like laughter, or how he would moan high-pitched pleas and lower his gigantic head to the ground when Jongup scolded him. He couldn’t help but stare at him every time Daehyun graced them with his presence, stares that seemed to make him uncomfortable (what the hell?), as he shifted his weight from one paw to another and avoided his gaze by looking at the ceiling. One day, Jongup told him that something about Daehyun was really, really special, but that he had to keep it a secret for now (he promised he would tell Junhong later, soon), and somehow, deep down inside, the younger already knew.


	2. The Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He told Junhong the human world, as messy as it could get, was just as valuable and marvellous as the Land they belonged to. They were safe, at peace — they had a roof above their heads, food in their plates, and most importantly, no wars to deal with.

A year ticked by; a year in which Junhong had made lot of progress and could employ basic magic with ease, but still wasn’t skilful enoughto enter the Magic Academy. 

Jongup couldn’t understand why any of this mattered — he had graduated there, yet had decided to quit before university. He had once explained to the younger how ill-at-ease he had felt surrounded by his kind, by magic, by bossy teachers and obnoxious rules serving no one but temperamental directors. Moreover, Daehyun fit absolutely  _nowhere_ in their ridiculously petite environment; he was taking too much space to accompany him to classes or even in town, and this sole fact sealed the deal for Jongup. In regard of Junhong’s situation, though, the latter reason sounded pointless.

 

He told Junhong the human world, as messy as it could get, was just as valuable and marvellous as the Land they belonged to. Even if they had to stay hidden and repeatedly dismiss freaky teenagers wandering in the library, they were safe, at peace — they had a roof above their heads, food in their plates, and most importantly, no  _wars_  to deal with. Yet, Junhong wouldn’t hear him talk about the permanent conflicts at the Academy and its surrounding area, about the weird politics and the thirst for power. He had read about it in History books, he knew.

 

 

He kept trying, endlessly, to improve, to cast better spells and make high-quality potions. Junhong thought he was getting used to the loneliness and the tiresome feeling of being out of place, that although he was still without a familiar and “ _weakened”,_  still had a “ _fragile mental state”,_ he managed just fine. 

He appreciated the feeling of magic throbbing through him, filling him, even if never completely. He liked the strength and the never-ending possibilities, liked the feeling of his powers tugging at his bones, liked the smell of perfectly dosed potions, and above all, liked being able to turn the lights off without having to get out of bed.

Junhong  _loved_ magic, everything about it, and he couldn’t help but blame his parents for cutting him off as soon as he was born. 

 

 

Junhong often proposed friendly fights to Jongup, who was still averse to affronting him — it was unfair according to him, because he had  _classes_ about combatting, he had been  _raised_ in magic, whereas Junhong was still like a lamb learning how to walk. He had it in him, obviously, but his steps were still clumsy, his legs weak and shaky. 

And how could the younger not feel insulted by such hurtful comments.

 

 

Weeks of begging, whining and threatening turned into months, and could have very well turned to years if Jongup hadn’t finally accepted out of the blue one day, though still as reluctant and unsure at the prospect of harming the younger both physically and in his pride. He promised to go easy on him for their first fight. Daehyun could watch but the elder made it very clear he had absolutely no right to intervene. Besides,he had refused Junhong’s strength potion, and he announced he wouldn’t be using Class-A spells.

 

All of his concern was proven futile as soon as Junhong launched his first attack, and sent him flying across the library’s garden, his back slamming against the metallic fence twelve feet behind. Daehyun shifted, thumped his tail behind him while growling in a low tone, but didn’t leave his spot by the library’s back door as his owner pushed himself off the ground with difficulty.

 

The fight went on nonetheless, and Junhong never lost the upper-hand; he suspected that Jongup had indeed gone easy on him, and grew irrationally upset at the thought. In a swift motion, he leapt to the side, efficiently dodging a stardust ball thrown his way before replying with one of his own, thicker, brighter, and hit Jongup in the chest. Without leaving any room for a come back, Junhong casted a Class-C spell that was supposed to immobilise his opponent’s legs for a minute — he noticed too late that something had gone wrong, seeing Jongup suddenly wince in pain. A loud, piercing scream escaped his lips, and his body slowly went limp. He fell on his side with a whimper, eyes still wide. 

 

Junhong paid no mind to Daehyun’s distressed, shrill cry as his own panic deafened him; what he couldn’t ignore, however, was the massive figure that threw him out of its way. He fell with all his weight on his left arm, a sharp pain jabbing at his bone, but his gaze never left the running canine, watching it slew in a swift, messy motion near Jongup’s inanimate body.

 

Daehyun let out a series of desperate whines, licking his owner’s face with his huge tongue, his large feet pushing at the other’s chest in an hopeless attempt to shake him awake. After a while, he let out a fierce but high-pitched scream, and light surrounded its massive frame with a radiant glow, which forced Junhong’s eyes shut for a brief second.

When he opened them again, the light had vanished, as well as the familiar. Above Jongup’s body was a well-built man, barely out of his adolescence, with brown mid-long hair and round eyes. He knelt beside the lying figure with no care for his own bare skin, and all Junhong could see was a furry tail curling around the man’s middle part, and sharp ears lowering in worry. Junhong didn’t even find it in him to be surprised. 

 

Daehyun, or well, Daehyun’s _human form_ , passed an arm under Jongup’s head to support its weight and brought it to his chest, staring teary-eyed in the other’s wide, unfocused ones. He snapped his head around all of a sudden, merely enough to see Junhong’s form still on the ground above his shoulder, and  _begged._  There was something terribly wrong about hearing such a majestic creature plead and pray in this desperate pattern. Junhong gathered the little strength he still had in him to stand up and walk over to his friend. 

 

Junhong drew a tiny flask out of his vest’s inner-pocket, wishing a basic healing potion would be enough to reverse the damage, and carefully brought it to Jongup’s lips. A trickle slid out of his mouth and down his chin, but the blood had already rushed back to his cheeks, pushing Death’s white coat away. Daehyun watched closely as Jongup inhaled sharply, blinking twice, before he let out a relieved sigh and pressed the wizard’s head tighter to his chest. 

 

 

The mood wasn’t awkward between them; Jongup’s near-death experience didn’t seem to affect him the least. After pulling himself back together wholly, he congratulated Junhong on his bewildering display of power, apologised for underestimating him, patted him on the back in a friendly  _“we’re good, try not to kill me next time”_  gesture, and even offered some help to patch his arm up. But if Jongup was by no mean upset with Junhong, Daehyun’s glares still weighted on him like eighty-three tons of metal, sharp and pregnant with silenced anger. Soon, Junhong excused himself and ran back home, as safe from the wolf and its threatening behaviour as he could be.

 

Junhong studied a great part of the afternoon, forgetting about time and space as he engrossed himself in theoretical work — he considered he had done enough of magical damage for a whole week, if not month. 

He couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the fact that a Class- _C_  spell nearly killed his only friend; a friend descending from a mildly-powerful bloodline, furthermore. No matter how he rationalised it, he wasn’t able to persuade himself that he had just mispronounced a word, accidentally casting a much more powerful attack; it was very much unlikely for something as benign as a vowel to turn a Class-C into something so deadly.

 

Weary, Junhong looked away from his History book and towards his apartment’s window — the sun was settling down, lighting the room with its dimmed orange glow. He decided to go for a walk in the woods and snapped his book shut, setting it aside. Hopefully, he would be lucky enough to find interesting ingredients for his potions, and wouldn’t get caught pulling weeds by night guardians. 

He used to find going around in the mud pretty tedious, struggling to reach very specific kind of leaves sitting ridiculously high in their trees, killing adorable-looking wild animals to retrieve some blood — he eventually grew accustomed to it, and if it was not the most exciting part of being a wizard, forest strolls at least had the advantage of being relaxing. 

 

 

He stuffed his sickle, knives, plastic hermetic bags and herbal book in his backpack, and hit the road in his tiny, black city car. Feeling adventurous, he drove about one hour to the national park; its outskirt was framed by the densest forest of the region, which proportionally harboured more useful resources for wizards. He had never met any other living soul there, though.

 

Reaching the wild, unwatched part of the woods required some climbing, but the walk was mostly made along flourished paths and bridges that inspired peacefulness; with just a high, metallic fence holding a  _“keep out!”_  sign to divide the human domain and the mountains. He threw his backpack above the fence first, climbed it, and jumped past with ease. He allowed himself a second to rest his tired legs, then pushed himself back to his feet and resolutely entered the woods, sinking into the shadows. 

 

 

Junhong conjured stardust in his right hand, holding his palm up in front of him to enlighten as much of the path as he could manage to. The grass seemed to shine under the faint, blueish lighting, in contrast to the rest of the wood, drawn into darkness. For good measure, he also lit up tiny particles of embers that winded softly around him as to greet him, before speeding ahead in order to illuminate more of the sinuous path. He kept advancing warily in-between the menacingly looking trees, making branches crack under his weight.

 

 

The hunt for ingredients went well, he even found some  _alyssum_ sitting under a weeping willow — he hoped he had collected enough for a protection potion. He never had the chance to make a powerful one, but he had read they could be extremely efficient and could turn your skin as hard as marble, bulletproof. 

Combatting was an important course in the Magic Academy, therefore he made a point of honour into mastering it first. Jongup’s tips had been useful, and he hoped the elder wouldn’t be too reluctant to fight him again, even after his shameless lack of experience had nearly killed him. At the thought of the other’s bright smile, Junhong felt his heart sink with shame.

 

 

He had walked for about a mile into the woods’ darkness, when he heard a low, pained whimper somewhere close. He froze in his tracks, wordlessly willing for the stars and embers to stop gleaming. The little cloud of foggy light disintegrated around him, ashes falling sparsely at his feet. He didn’t move, waiting for another confirmation that he wasn’t alone, eyes wide and heart thumping in fear. 

A choked growl was then heard, full of ache and sorrow, and pity slowly replaced panic.

 

“Anyone here?”

 

He heard something shift, carrying the soft sound of scraping dead leaves, before silence fell back on the forest. He waited a bit more, then sighed, resigned.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you, just help.” He looked left and right, before making the dust reform under him and fly back into place. “Tell me where you are.”

 

When he received no answer, Junhong grew impatient, and used more of his magic to gather all of the particles, fire and starlight alike, added some, forming a ball of pure  luminescence approximatively the size of his head. Satisfied, the boy sent it to the left, hoping it was the right direction; he was relieved to see it light such a huge part of its surrounding as it sank in-between trees. He followed his star with quick, eager steps.

 

 

It didn’t take him long to spot the giant lump of brown fur lying on the ground, acting dead. His first reaction was fear — how  _big_ could animals be in this forest?! However, a wave of pained sympathy crashed through him as soon as he spotted the trap viciously piercing through its leg, and took two cautious steps toward it, contouring its body, before kneeling near the metallic device.

 

“I’m going to release you.” He announced, wary. “But once you’re free, please do not attack me.” 

The beast hesitantly whined. 

 

 

Junhong took a closer look at the trap. It was a regular one, mostly used for bears, but still had a strong grip on the animal’s calves. Dried blood had gathered arounds its sharp teeth, which were biting into the flesh nastily, and the vision was enough to make the young man wince. He wondered how to remove the trap, and over all, if the beast would be able to run ever again. 

 

“It’s going to hurt.” He sent an apologetic glance toward the place the beast’s head was presumably resting (he couldn’t even see it), and waited for a reaction — in vain. “All right. I’m starting.” He exhaled loudly.

 

His palms were pressed firmly against the cold metal, although he felt an unfamiliar burn at the contact. He tried to gather as much force as he could to open it, but the grip didn’t lessen one bit. The beast, though, yelped, before letting out a series of small whines. 

 

“I’m sorry! It’s not working, I’m so sorry.”

 

He made an attempt to set his hands back on the creature’s limb, but it roared loudly as a warning, and threw its gigantic head his way. Junhong merely had enough time to dodge as sharp teeth snapped shut a few inches away from his ear. He gasped audibly and raised his hands in a sign of surrender.

 

“I said I was sorry!”

 

The beast roared once again, loud and menacing, before trying to escape by crawling away. Junhong couldn’t even begin to imagine in how much pain it could be. Pitying the beast once more, he decided to cast an anaesthetising spell to soothe it even the slightest bit; still shaken from the morning’s events though, there was a sour and bitter feeling left on his tongue as he rolled the words out. Yet, although he never had to use such spell before, he chanted it naturally, with ease, and soon, the beast’s head fell back on the ground with a faint thud.

 

 

Junhong drew a blade out of his bag, resolute into freeing the poor animal, and tried to use it as leverage to open the trap. It had no other effect but to make the beast’s breath twitch in its sleep, and the boy gave up once again. He approached his ball of light closer to the instrument and took another look at its build.

The huge metal teeth were held together by two screws, slotted heads still apparent. He used his blade to rotate the first pin, feeling it loosen after a while, and heaved a shaky breath. He kept turning it round until he was able to get it out of its spot; he gave the same treatment to the second screw, then pulled at both of the dented arc to remove them from the animal’s leg. Fresh blood abundantly flew from the newly-freed flesh, making Junhong slightly panic. In a second, he ripped his shirt apart and tightly wrapped the fabric against the wounds. 

 

 

Junhong considered leaving the beast there, unconscious and vulnerable, but soon surrended to the part of his conscience that considered the act plainly  _wrong_. Bringing it at his place was dangerous, in more ways than just challenging his concierge’s no-pet policy, but at least he would be able to heal the creature there — and if it tried to attack him, then he would send it straight into Morpheus’ arms once again. No big deal.

He really hoped it wouldn’t be a big deal. 

 

 

Now that he could examine the creature’s built body and head more clearly, he noted his first assumption had been wrong — its pelage was only darkened by dirt, hiding under layers of mud a coat presumably as white as snow. Its muzzle was thicker than one of a canine, but also rounder, and it had thin whiskers that reminded him of cats’. Its tail was longer and thinner than anything he had ever seen.

Most importantly, it was big. It was enormous. It was maybe as massive as Daehyun, and that was far from being common. He tried not to question what could such creature be doing in the woods, and focused all of his concern on a strategy to transport it back to his car.

 

 

At the very least, the creature weighed two hundreds pounds. Junhong was still under the power of the strength potion, and although his limbs were slender, he was far from being petite; yet he struggled to drag it through the forest — he took several pauses along the way, panting and sweating, and cursed himself at least a dozen of times for not putting water in his bag.

 

He felt relieved once he had reached past the thick line of trees marking the forest’s frontier, and resolutely cut a hole into the metallic fence, big enough for him to crawl under then drag the animal behind as there was no way for him to climb it with the beast in his arms.

 

He grew scared he would be spotted by guardians while crossing the park, warily stopping once in a while to take in his surrounding fully. He knew his star’s glow would instinctively flicker off if a human neared, anyway, but he had been proven today again that his magic was nowhere near trustworthy, and failure wasn’t an option there. He believed kidnapping a panther wasn’t quite legal, even if he was full of good intentions.

 

Junhong almost shed tears of relief once he reached his car, and swiftly opened his trunk. He tried to push the animal up in order to lay it on the flat surface, but failed three times in a row. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he then tried to gather as much of his magic as he could to use telekinesis, yet felt dizzy before the beast even budged. Junhong heaved a sigh, his whole body radiating annoyance, and fiercely gripped the enormous paw anew. He threw his arm up, and used his free one to catch the beast’s flanks in an attempt to drag it up a fourth time — which, finally, was a success.

 

However, he was faced with another problem when he realised the beast didn’t fit in his trunk. Even with its head sprawled onto the back seats, its legs were still hanging out the confined space, and Junhong couldn’t close the door. He shifted its body around for a while before managing to put it in a passably more constricted position, used his cars’ carpets to cover the trunk’s window and, at last, closed the door. Breathless and aching, Junhong finally fell on the driver seat and shut his eyes for a split of second. When he opened them again, they instinctively focused on the dashboard’s clock; it read twelve past two in the morning _._ He hurriedly took off, tired and weary.


	3. The Unusual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He turned his head above his shoulder at an unnatural angle, enough to see the beast stir faintly, its whiskers twitching, and its lids trembling. The wizard’s heart violently thumped against his rib cage, the overwhelming sense of danger and preservation instinct screaming at him to run for his dear life.

The trip back to Junhong’s place was accomplished smoothly, despite his exhausted state. He struggled to carry the beast out of his trunk and through the calm, flourished paths that linked all the apartment buildings together, cold sweat running down the nape of his neck each time the thought of being caught brushed his mind — he sincerely hoped no one watched the security footage from the complex’s cameras, otherwise this night would mark the start of a ridiculous amount of trouble. 

Junhong only allowed his body to go limp once he had locked the door of his apartment behind him. He dropped both his backpack and the animal’s giant body to the ground with no finesse and bent his back to let his palm rest on top of his knees, panting. Though the strengthening potions did make him feel fearless, limitless, he had to confess he never was much of an athlete and the creature proved itself to be an absolute challenge to his already tired muscles. 

Without bothering to move the body out of his lobby, the wizard managed to find the strength to stand up straight and swiftly started to look through his workshop for a healing potion, hoping to find one that wouldn’t hurt the mammal more than it already was. There was one that contained chamomile, one that contained aloe, another one that he infused with dahlias’ leaves, and Junhong was quite sure none of these plants fitted the metabolism of animals. He supposed that, at best, they would simply be inefficient, but knew what could be the consequences at worst, and set all of the flasks back on the shelves with a sigh.

He opted for some exotic herbal cream, that Jongup had once offered him to cauterise his cuts, though he wasn’t so sure about its components or medicinal attributes. Junhong only wanted the creature to hold on for the night, which would leave him enough time to both sleep and prepare something better at the next sunrise.

Junhong dragged the creature all the way to his living room, pulling it up to let it rest on his couch. Its fur was a mess, tangled and soaked with rain, mud and blood, but strangely the wizard wasn’t caring much about his furniture as he delicately poured some alcohol on its leg in order to clean the revealed flesh. He then dug his hand in the jar of cream, rubbed them together to spread the substance over his skin and cautiously placed them on both side of the wound. He ran his thumb over it slowly, tentatively, waiting for any kind of reaction from the feline — although the beast let out a shaky inhale, it didn’t budge, so the wizard applied more pressure.

 

He was thorough in his care for the animal, covering the wound with layers after layers of protective cream. Junhong tried to see the cut clearly, but the feeble yellow light from his floor lamp proved to be quite unhelpful. Sighing once more, he wiped his oily hands on his jeans, before finally sitting on the floor and letting his back rest against the couch. The creature’s huge paw was thus pressed in between his shoulder blades, warm and humid.

Junhong wondered if staying near it overnight was a wise choice, as he would most probably be ripped into shreds in a second if the creature panicked — yet he felt as though he didn’t have enough energy left in him to get up and walk to his bedroom. His head lolled back on the panther’s limb, lids fluttering shut leisurely. 

He noted, as the faint feeling of fur brushing against his neck faded into nothing, that he would have to call Jongup the next day. Jongup would definitely help him. 

Jongup always knew what to do.

 

 

When Junhong woke up the next day, he first felt the stinging pain against his back and neck, and something cold under his cheek. He blinked his eyes open tiredly, unsure about how long he had slept — a quick glance at the sky through the window assured him it was late afternoon. As he realised he was laying on the ground, Junhong rolled over on his stomach, triggering the sore pain that lurked all over his body, and grunted in discomfort. 

The wizard got off the ground slowly, before setting his eyes on the sleeping figure on his couch — the creature had yet to wake up, and didn’t even look like it had moved an inch since the night before. Though he was not sure what made him do so, Junhong patted its head, stroking the soft spot that could make any cat purr behind its sharp ears, and sighed in disappointment when he got no reaction. Warily, he used his fingers to lift its heavy lids up, and checked its pupils  —  its eyes weren’t reversed, which was a good sign. Its breathing was even, quiet. He tentatively poked its flank, but once again, the creature didn’t react.

Junhong gave up eventually. He lazily walked to his kitchen, plugged his cellphone to his charger on the countertop, and prepared himself a sandwich while waiting for the device to turn itself on. His movements seemed to have slowed down considerably, and if he had been honest, he would have recognised it as a sign of how sore he was from the day before’s “ _exercise_ ”. Junhong was rarely honest with himself however, and simply blamed his wooden floor for the terrible night he spent.

 

Junhong took a bite of his sandwich and set it aside before dialling Jongup’s number. As the strident ring echoed on his eardrums, he trapped the phone in between his ear and shoulder, leaving his hands free to prepare the knife, cutting board, and cooking pots. After the fifth ring and as the wizard was about to hang up, the elder’s voice broke through.

“Hello?”

“Jongup, I need your help.” The younger deadpanned gravely. “How do you heal animals?”

“Depends on its size and the species.” His answer was quick, but his tone remained surprised.

“A  _huge_ panther.”

There was the sound of a sharp drag of air, of a shuddering breath and flickering tongue. Junhong couldn’t determine where it was coming from as his own heartbeat seemed to echo in his mind.

“What have you done?” Came the other’s reply, at last.

“Kind of… Ran into something unusual at the park.”

“By unusual, you mean a dying big cat in a forest?”

“Yeah, that.” Junhong’s fingers twitched in discomfort. He took a new bite of his sandwich to occupy himself while Jongup seemed to process the information.

“How bad is its wound?”

“Huh.” He swallowed his mouthful, then cleared his throat. “Pretty bad. Also I think I botched again, I ensorcelled it with the spell that goes ‘ s̴͝ᴏ̵̈́ᴍ̵̂ɴ̸͝ᴜ̸̛s̵͒ ̵̕ᴍ̵͌ɪ̵̆;̷̀ ̵́ᴄ̵̈ʀ̵͆ᴇ̷̌ᴅ̶̕ɪ̸͂ ̶̎ᴍ̵̏ɪ̷̉ʜ̵̈́ɪ̷͝,̸̄ ̶̔ᴜ̸̔ᴛ̴̛ ̴̒ᴛ̶̐ᴇ̶̛ ̴̿ᴍ̷̃ᴇ̶͂ʟ̸̾ɪ̸͋ᴏ̷͘ʀ̷̅ᴇ̸̇ᴍ̵̐’; see which one? It hasn’t woken up yet. I would have sworn its effects were only supposed to last two hours.”

“Up to half-a-day if the recipient is about to die.” Jongup corrected him, trying to be soothing, and the younger found himself unable to confess it had already been a full day. “Maybe animals react differently. Hey, you’re still at the park? Do you want me to rejoin you?”

“I’m not at the park.” The silence that followed his voice left Junhong even more jittery. He added, “I brought it home.”

“You’re insane. You totally went insane.” 

“I swear, I had no other choice. It was too weak to leave it in the wild. Alone.” 

“Only insane people would think that.” Jongup rebutted dryly.

“Help me, brother.” The younger was well aware of the turn his voice was taking, something in between a plea and a whine, yet didn’t care much. “Please.” 

He heard a resigned sigh and then, “Do you have Alyssum?”

“Yeah, tons!”

Junhong unplugged his phone (which bleeped in disapproval), and walked out of his kitchen, straight to his workshop, smiling widely as his friend enunciated a long list of ingredients.

“Brew it with beets in distilled water. I don’t know man, lavender oil, dandelion’s leaves… Do you have strawberries? Lot of alcohol, though. Knock it out for good. Drunk panthers must be easier to deal with.”

Junhong smiled as he gathered the required flasks in his free hand. “I hope so.” 

The eldest wizard let out a breathy laugh, one so quiet that it would easily have been mistaken as a gust of air, one he would have missed if they hadn’t been friend for over a year. 

“Thank you, Jongup.” He declared softly. “For everything.”

“At your service. Call me again later in the night, or tomorrow morning. If I don’t hear from you before lunch time, I will conclude you’ve been devoured and start organising your funerals.” Jongup’s tone was playful, yet held no humour as it was laced with worry. 

Junhong’s smile fell, weak.

 

They hung up quickly afterwards, leaving both of the wizard’s hands free to concoct his Panacea. As Jongup had advised him, he sacrificed a great part of the Alyssum he had picked the night before, blended it with a scary amount of rum, and cut thin slices of strawberries and beets to add in. He mixed the beverage until it seethed, and when the herbs finished infusing, Junhong turned the stove off and used a strainer to fish the remaining solids out, then poured the liquid in two different silver flasks. One, he added pectin in it, hopping it would solidify it enough to turn it into jelly, then set it to rest in his fridge. The second, he took it by the bottleneck as it was still boiling, and walked calmly toward his living room with it.

 

Junhong waited at least ten minutes to let the liquid cool down, before kneeling down near the animal. He held its head straight, using his left hand to keep its mouth open and his right one to lift the bottle, then forced two mouthfuls down its throat. As soon as he removed his hand from its chin, the gigantic head fell heavily back on the sofa’s cushion, though it did not offer any kind of reaction whatsoever. Junhong sighed, eventually placing the container on his coffee table, resigned.

 

He finished his sandwich, showered, cleaned up his floors, and finally spent the last few hours of evening researching on panthers, their behaviours, their diet, anything that could be useful to handle the big sleeping figure once it had decided to wake up. However, there were at least a dozen of different species related to panthers, and Junhong didn’t know if any of these fancy latin names actually mattered — he often attempted to compare pictures he had found on Google with the big cat he rescued, trying to figure out what was the creature’s species, but nothing really fit: it was too  _white,_  too big, too muscular, too much of everything to be  _anything._ Therefore, the young man had no other choice but satisfy himself with common generalities — one of which explained that, contrary to popular beliefs, these animals rarely ever attacked humans and would only do so if threatened or unable to feed on any other beings. It reassured Junhong a little.

 

It was only when night slowly replaced dusk that Junhong felt the beast move behind him. He turned his head above his shoulder at an unnatural angle, enough to see it stir faintly, its whiskers twitching, and its lids trembling. The wizard’s heart violently thumped against his rib cage, the overwhelming sense of danger and preservation instinct screaming at him to run for his dear life. He did not, however, and a second later, the creature was back to its soundless, heavy slumber. 

Junhong couldn’t bear to stay near afterwards, fear making him regret rescuing the beast — Jongup was right, he must have been insane. He merely fed it more healing potion, hands shaking and with caution he didn’t have earlier, before checking his flask of jelly in the fridge and went straight to bed. He locked the door behind himself, aware it wouldn’t save him if troubles arose, yet still felt relieved as though another wall separating him from the living room had been built.

He sent a quick text message to Jongup ( _“Still alive ;)”_ ), waited for a reply that took too long to come ( _“Ah, I hope they give refund on coffins. :D Daehyun says hi.”_ ), then turned off his light and buried himself under his blankets — he was ready for a long, restless night.

 

 

The first thought to cross Junhong’s mind when he awoke the next morning was about the panther. He held his breath, eyes still sealed shut by sleepiness, and cautiously examined his environment for any noise suggesting the creature was roaming through his apartment. The moment seemed to last an eternity, an eternity in which the only sound he could hear was the din of his heart resonating through his ear. Junhong concluded it was still asleep, and finally got up, unlocked his door and warily stepped out of his chamber.

The wizard fell back in his daily routine — he ate breakfast, watched the morning news (sitting crosslegged on the floor as he wouldn’t risk disturbing the ball of fur curled on his cushions), and got dressed. He fed the creature more of his potion, checked for a pulse and its pupils, and as nothing about its state seemed alarming enough to require special care, he then set on going out to buy groceries. 

There was something distressing about leaving the beast alone in his flat. He was fairly certain it wouldn’t wake up (he would only leave to buy some meat, after all), but he still couldn’t shake the lingering thought away. It followed him through the store’s aisles like a solid being, sending occasional pulses of worry through him, and it was with relief that Junhong finally stepped back into his apartment’s lobby forty-three minutes of anguish later.

 

As he was placing his newly-bought food in his fridge, Junhong felt his phone going off in his back pocket, and answered the call without bothering to check the caller’s ID.

“Yes, Jongup,” He closed the fridge’s door with the back of his calf. “So did you get a refund on this coffin?”

The latter let out an hearty laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll send you the bill. How is it going?”

“Nothing new, still sleeping. I told you I screwed up…”

“Perhaps it was just tired, you know.” The elder cleared his throat — even he seemed unconvinced by his own words. “Or perhaps it’s the alcohol.”

“Yeah, sure. Do you have any idea on how to invert the spell?” 

“Did you try an energising potion yet?”

“No, I can’t do that. It would only speed up its heartbeat and blood pressure, which would be painful. And imagine if it does wake up after that? I would be  _so_  doomed.”

“True.” The other admitted softly. “Well, I really don’t know. I could do some researches in the library if you want me to, it’s a pretty quiet day.”

“Thank you.” 

As Junhong was about to inquire about Daehyun’s whereabouts, he heard a low rumble coming from the room beside the kitchen, and set his phone aside to focus on it. More faint groans resonated through his apartment, as well as pained whimpers and sharp intakes of air. He was doubtlessly no longer alone in his home. He whispered, “ _Never mind, Jongup. Gotta call you back._ ” before hanging up, and quietly tiptoed to his living room’s door, where he watched the waking figure from the entrance.

 

The creature tried to lift its head up, only to let it fall back heavily. It let out a surprised rumble, and jerked its paw as to check if it was still in control of its own body. Junhong felt a tidal wave of pity crush his insides. It moaned a last time in agony, tiredly trying to turn its head to look at its wounded leg, but its eyes were unfocused, lids half-open. The beast gave up and chose to rest on its flank, waiting to recover.

 

The wizard took a shaky breath before opening the door wide and walking in. He took two cautious, wary steps, before the feline noticed him — something seemed to snap in its mind, as its eyes opened fully, stare fixed on Junhong. He tentatively took a third step, and the beast uncovered its sharp teeth.

“I won’t hurt you.” Yet, he stood frozen at the spot, too afraid to advance more. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

The creature roared, menacing in spite of its obvious struggle over pain. Its paw twitched again, and it made another attempt at raising its head, to no avail.

“My name is Junhong, and I am a wizard. I rescued you at the National Park.” Could it even understand what he was saying?  _Oh, he was so fucked._ “Do not attack me.” 

Junhong heard his phone buzzing in the distance, and mentally blamed Jongup for interrupting this dramatic moment where he was trying to save his life. He took a step closer to his couch, closing the distance enough that the beast could reach him with one mere leap.

“If you attack me, you won’t get any steak.” When he realised the beast’s roars wavered ever so slightly, he pursued. “Steak. I bought steak.” One more step. “Tasty steak. For good little kitties. Steak, steak, steak.”

The beast drew its lip back in place, covering its teeth, but kept its ears down.  Cautiously, Junhong extended his arm and presented his palm to it, close enough to be smelled but still leaving its muzzle untouched. The panther took the hint and sniffed the limb tiredly. 

“I’ve been feeding you healing potion since I took you home two days ago, but your leg is still in bad shape.” He explained, retrieving his hand. “You’ve been caught in a bear trap. You’re okay, I won’t hurt you. Calm down.”

The creature held his stare, wary and immobile. A billion thoughts were going round in Junhong’s mind, among those how long did he still have to live and who would inherit his belongings, but when he spotted its tail twitch impatiently, he came back to his monologue. He felt ridiculous, but still imagined it would understand him.

“I will cook you steak and feed you more healing potion. Then find a way to take you back to the forest, where you belong.”

 

Although it stayed unfazed, Junhong didn’t dare to turn his back on the feline. Instead, he carefully walked backward, his eyes unblinking and unmoving, mirroring the ones set on him. The wizard only allowed himself to breathe once he was out of the room, back in the safety of his kitchen — he chocked out an overly dramatic gasp before taking a profound breath and starting to prepare his guest’s meal. He heard the feline fall down the couch with a thud but didn’t bother checking, as the sound was soon followed by the repetitive scratching of its heavy paws on his parquet. 

As he threw the pieces of meat in the pan, Junhong couldn’t help but distantly listen to the animal exploring his apartment, the thumping on his floor stopping once in while to, he guessed, sniff some things with more care. Knowing panthers were territorial beings, he also wondered if it would try to mark his furniture. The thought, although quite worrying, ripped a childish smile out of him.

 

Junhong spent around fifteen minutes cooking four pieces of cheap meat, which he hoped would be enough to satisfy the huge carnivore in his living room. He tried to keep his steps light and quiet on his way to the room so that he wouldn’t be annoying, but still tried to be heard to avoid startling it. The creature was sitting near his window, looking in the distance at the people and cars passing by, and Junhong was suddenly curious about what wild felines thought about — if they thought at all. He set the dish down on the floor, near the couch, and promptly backed away.

The panther struggled to get up on his four legs as the wounded one seemed to hurt it even more than it had in the park. Its walk was still marvellous though, all in finesse and gracefulness, back muscles rolling lazily under its skin and head straight, defiant. Its eyes were burning holes through Junhong’s face as it advanced slowly toward him, with such intensity that the wizard actually thought it was coming for him. To his relief, it didn’t take another step once it had reached the plate of meat.

It first smelled the food cautiously before devouring the first piece in one mouthful. The others followed promptly, as it seemed it didn’t need to chew it to swallow, and the plate was empty in the blink of an eye. Junhong was terrorised. 

“I could, um.” He cleared his throat. The pressure of the wall behind his back made him feel claustrophobic. “I could cook more.”

The creature licked its chops, eyes fluttering toward him.

“Don’t even think about eating me.” Junhong mumbled, vainly attempting to sound threatening. “I have a brilliant future ahead. I have dreams. And I could ice you with a mere snap of my fingers, so you’re warned.”

It squinted its gigantic round eyes, maybe in disbelief, maybe considering the words more thoroughly, who knew; and Junhong let out a nervous laugh as cold sweat gathered in between his shoulders blade.

“I’m going to leave this room to call my best friend. I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to rip me to shreds in the meantime.” And then, he cussed to himself.

The panther took a step back, and threw a last glance of acknowledgement his way before walking back toward the couch. It seemed to hesitate for a split second, but finally jumped on it, and winced in pain. The creature licked the wound tentatively, giving it three tiny nips, then fully laid down and curled into a huge ball of dirty white fur. Junhong took it as an opportunity to escape the room, and cautiously walked out with eager yet silent steps.

 

 

He urged himself towards the kitchen, where he snatched his phone off the countertop, and hurried to his bedroom, all care forgotten once he didn’t feel the creature’s eyes on his back anymore. The wizard slammed the door shut behind him as he simultaneously dialled his friend’s number.

“Are you all right?” The elder sounded worried, though not quite panicked yet.

“It woke up, it  _fucking_ woke up.” 

“Did it try to attack you?”

“No, it still looks completely out-of-it.” He mentally thanked Jongup for the alcohol idea. “The healing potion doesn’t seem to be efficient, either.”

“Just put it back where you found it, okay? Anyway, I checked the newspapers and,  _thankfully,_  no zoos or circuses reported a panther disappearance in the region recently. No pet loss either. You’ve been really lucky about this, Junhong, next time, — and oh lord I hope there won’t be a next time, — things might turn pretty bad for you. Do you understand?”

Jongup voice had become at least two octaves deeper, breath caught somewhere in between his throat and lungs, and Junhong felt the need to apologise for the stress he was forcing on his friend’s shoulders. He did not, though.

“I do.” 

“Great. Knock it out again, and just drop it back at the park as soon as night falls. I can meet you there with Daehyun.”

“That would be nice of you, I’ll need the extra strength. It is  _huge._ I will send you a snap as soon as I put it back to sleep.”

Jongup let out an heartfelt squeak of laughter. “Can’t wait to see it.” 

The younger heard rumbles, and muffled words that he couldn’t make out. Though, he very well recognised the wolf’s human voice — he believed he would never forget it.

“Daehyun says he wants to see it too.” As more muffled phrases echoed through the room, the only sound that was clear to him was Jongup’s breathing. It was soon followed by a quiet chuckle. “He says now that you ‘ _know’_ , he wants to go to the zoo with us.”

“Isn’t he afraid we would leave him there, though?” 

How contagious could Jongup’s smile be, to creep into him even miles apart.

“He eats too much, the staff would put him down before the zoo goes bankrupt.”

Junhong picked up joyful laughter, playful swearing and happy punches. He grinned to himself, feeling suddenly weary for a reason he couldn’t grasp fully.

 

 

He was about to excuse himself, until he heard a loud clashing in the room next to him, groans and whimpers. He couldn’t see anything different, but felt a strange wave of foreign magic crash on him, feeling the vibrations of it bone-deep, and his very core quivered under the pressure of what he was sensing around him. Silence fell back on his place a mere second later, but he still couldn’t shake the lingering feeling away. Further away, he thought he heard someone curse.

He heard Jongup’s muffled voice call his name at the other end of the line, but cut the call short, throwing his phone on his bed and dashing toward the source of bizarreness with quick, panicked steps. Rounding the corner of the corridor, he pushed the door wide open, and pounced in his living room.

 

What the wizard saw on his couch had nothing to do with a panther anymore. There rested a naked young man with brown, mid-long hair. If he were older than him, then it was not by more than a few years. And from his features, all he could make out was a sharp jawline as it was clenched so tightly, and thin eyebrows, as they were furrowed in either concentration or deep ache.

The only clue Junhong had about what had happened was the wound on the man’s leg, matching the panther’s one in every respect.

He could feel his eyes growing wide as realisation wrecked him from the inside, yet he didn’t word anything before the stranger’s voice, strangely mellifluous considering it was breaking through so much pain, echoed in the room.

 

“Excuse me, Jun-thing, or whatever your name was, could I borrow clothes?”


	4. The Pet Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His eyes were set on the boy’s back and he observed the muscles flexing under skin, much like it had done when he was walking in his feline form; then they fell to his tail, which rested behind his legs lazily, the tip rocking left and right slowly.

Junhong gulped in horror. Yet he did not move, and past the confused surprise that was set on his face, he did not react further. He simply stared at the boyish man, mind blank and heartbeat deafening.

 

“Shapeshifting familiar.” The other explained after a while, apparently losing patience. One of his hands quit its place on his thighs in favour of passing through his hair, and revealed in their wake two sharp, furry ears.

“You’re… The…”

“Panther, yes. _Shapeshifting familiar_.” He repeated, voice aggravated.

 

Junhong couldn’t help the astonishment, the admiration and wonder in his eyes as he examined him more thoroughly, without approaching.

 

The familiar’s ears and tail remained, just like Daehyun’s did, yet it looked different on every level on the panther’s petite human form. The creature had a round, soft face, fair skin and slender limbs; he looked fragile and delicate, by no means comparable to the feline that faced him merely half an hour before. Where Daehyun kept his fierce, powerful aura no matter his form, the panther had two very distinct facets to his appearance that could not be confounded.

The wizard noted to himself that the ears and tail looked more like some quirky foreplay apparel than a reminiscence of the animal’s greatness.

 

The other boy grunted loudly in annoyance, all patience lost. “Did I stutter? I asked for clothes, meatball.”

Junhong felt all marks of amazement ebb out of his mind quickly, soon replaced by displeasure. He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together firmly. For a split second, he wondered how he was supposed to react, or if he could possibly just punch the shifter. But a quick glance at his wounded leg wiped most of his irritation out.

“Sure.” Junhong tilted his head left and jerked it in the direction of the corridor. “Follow me, _fluffball.”_

He still faced the other for enough time to see him grimace, nose wrinkling up in what could have been threatening if it still had been a muzzle, before turning around and leading the way toward his bedroom.

 

Junhong opened his drawer but found himself at a loss for choice, not knowing what would fit the panther better. He did not especially want to give it his worst clothes, the ones that itched or were too tight, but couldn’t set his mind on anything suitable for the feline. He heard an annoyed sigh behind his back, and moved out of the way with a constricted grin.

“Help yourself.”

No thanks were said. Instead, the familiar glared at him, then gripped the chest drawer and snatched the first T-Shirt that came under his hand off the stack. He took a bit more time to select trousers that would fit him, before finally settling on a pair of blue and yellow sport shorts that the wizard hadn’t worn since high school. The latter almost snickered.

“Boxers?”

“The drawer below.” Junhong replied easily.

 

He watched him go through his collection of underwear in silence. His eyes set on the boy’s back and observed the muscles flexing under skin, much like it had done when he was walking in his feline form; then they fell to his tail, which rested behind his legs lazily, the tip rocking left and right slowly. He was pulled out of his examination when the other closed the chest with his knee and turned toward him, arms full of clothes.

 

“Bathroom?”

“Corridor, first door to your right.”

“Great. Don’t disturb me.”

 

As he walked past him, Junhong couldn’t help but notice how heavily the young man was limping. He stole a glance at his leg, the wound looking even nastier on his human form, with no fur to protectively hide it. Its edges had turned black, yet the flesh, shining with too much lymphatic fluid than what the wizard considered normal, was a flaming bright red.

Before the shifter could disappear through the door, Junhong grabbed him by the shoulder, almost making him drop the stack of fabric in his arms.

“You should have a bit of healing potion first.”

The familiar looked at him dead in the eyes, faint surprise reflecting in his dark orbs. However, all of it was gone once his brows furrowed in exasperation.

“It tastes like shit.”

 

Junhong’s hand left his arm, startled from the other’s boldness and lack of gratitude, but still didn’t lower his glare. He gritted his teeth.

“I made a jar of cream out of the same mix, you could rub it on your wound. Or take regular painkillers.”

“All right simpleton,” The familiar sighed. “It’s a magical wound. _Magical._ Your little human ways have no shit on _real_ , _really magical_ , wounds.”

“I’m not human!” Junhong defensively curled his hands into fists at his sides, only to stretch them out a second later and exhaling a loud, supposedly calming, breath. “You can’t stay like that, you’re in too much pain. Just tell me what kind of potion you need and I will prepare it.”

 

Mistrust and defiance seemed to fill the feline as his eyes narrowed significantly, shoulders forming a straight line around his tensed neck. A quiet snarl could be heard in his voice as he spat out “Why would you care?”

“I didn’t take you home to let you die.” Junhong noted the familiar relaxed just the slightest at that, and therefore pursued with humour, “And you’re going to spread blood on all of my furniture if the wound re-opens.”

The creature raised his eyebrows, his tail jiggling in interest. “You humans are such materialistic beings, it’s actually pretty impressive.”

“I’m not fucking human!”

 

Junhong voice rose high, loud and threatening, visibly alarming the familiar for a brief instant — his tail stopped waving, body standing unmoving in front of the taller boy, and although his face stayed impassible, his ears flattened in shock. Soon however, a feline grin broke on his childish face, and he was back to the lazy attitude.

“Right, you’re not.” His tail was slowly dancing behind him, as if to emphasise the mocking curl of his lips. “Use ginger and lotus in sea water, then. Cast a regeneration spell on it.”

Junhong lowered his gaze to ponder about it a brief second. “I think I’m out of lotus though.”

“Opium then?”

“That’s an illegal herb.”

“And you believe magic is any more legal?” He snapped, eyes rolling in annoyance. “Eucalyptus?”

“Yes, I think I do have eucalyptus.”

 

If Junhong had stuttered just the slightest, it was only for the fact he wasn’t too sure about the amount of herb he still had in stock, and surely not because he was impressed by the confidence emanating in waves from the familiar.

The latter’s smile crept back in place, white teeth flashing brightly at him, before he breathed out a _“Good.”_ and turned tail to exit the room.

 

Junhong spent at least ten minutes eagerly searching for sea water through the mess that was his little bureau, rehabilitated in a seedy workshop, and kept cursing himself for not labelling his vials properly. Distilled, mineral, rain, melted snow, de-ionized, boiled with sugar, boiled with salt, boiled with different kinds of flower petals, from a river, from a waterfall — he had all types of water, aligned one next to another on a wooden console, in between various hermetic sachets full of dried weeds.

His workshop was unfilled though, still lacking, considering the variety of ingredients sorcerers needed for their craft. But how could he find enough place to store over one hundred books (and there, Junhong was only counting the fundamental ones), three thousand different species of herb in abundance, in diverse states of decay, up to their return to dust, litres and litres of fresh blood, at least eighty different sorts of iron tools and gadgets, all in one single room, in a 55 square metres apartment. Junhong, again, blamed his parents for not letting him inherit their mansion, as he remembered their attic flourishing with all of these, perfectly arranged thanks to his mother’s natural methodological behaviour.

 

When he finally found the desired flask, Junhong paused to exhale with relief, snatched the two bags full of herbs he was needing for the potion, and quickly walked toward his kitchen. Once there, he let all the ingredients fall onto his worktop, and pulled a clean cooking pot out of the cupboard.

 

The sea water took forever to come to ebullition — which left Junhong enough time to chop the dried herbs into small fragments, then into thinner pieces, and again, until there was nothing more on his cutting board than a sand-like powder. He was conscientious with his work, perhaps had it been why he didn’t notice the movements behind his back — but as he was about to add the mixture of plants in the salted liquid, he felt a quick draught of air behind his neck and jumped out of his skin, dropping both his knife and board in the boiling water.

As he turned around, he was greeted by two wide, mockingly curious eyes staring back at him.

 

“Did I say anything about ‘wood and iron’ in the _simple_ three-items list of ingredients I gave you?” The creature drawled — if his sarcasm had been a solid entity, Junhong was pretty sure it would have been strong enough to slap him in the face.

“You actually did not.” Junhong’s jaw tensed, before he turned back towards the stove and tried his very best to retrieve the cooking tools without burning his hands. He took several shaky breaths as the hot mist curled around his fingers in the process, but managed to catch them at last, and finally placed the lid on top of the container. “How long should it infuse?”

“You tell me, you’re the wizard.” The other flashed him a bright, though obviously sarcastic grin.

“Five minutes? Yes, five minutes sounds good.”

 

The familiar’s smile fell down, replaced by an expression of utter disbelief. Junhong guessed his answer was not the desired one, but couldn’t correct himself as he genuinely didn’t know what was so wrong. Potions usually didn’t have to infuse very long, that was what made them so convenient after all.

 

“Simpleton, have you ever used sea water?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, for, hm…” A void suddenly formed in the wizard’s mind, making him unable to recall anything he had ever done, any magic spell he had casted or any potion he had brewed. The other’s eyes burned holes in his face and he suddenly grew extremely self-conscious.

“I see.” His gaze softened. “You have to cast the spell now, then leave the potion untouched for fifty minutes. The water has to be kept boiling through the whole process.”

Junhong nodded, feeling stupidly ashamed. “Which regeneration spell did you have in mind?”

“It starts like, F̴̓ɪ̶̛ᴀ̸̈ᴛ̵̂ ̴̔ʀ̴̌ᴇ̸̅ɴ̸͆ᴀ̵̀s̶̈́ᴄ̸̊ɪ̴̎ ̴̕ᴅ̶͝ᴇ̵̛ ̶̈ᴘ̴̀ᴜ̸̀ʟ̸̔ᴠ̴̃ᴇ̷̊ʀ̸́ᴇ̶̊ ̴͊ᴏ̸̅s̴̏s̸͛ᴀ̸̈́ ̴̛ᴍ̴̀ᴇ̴̐ᴀ̶̔. Do you know this one?

“I think I do? I’m not sure.”

 

The creature’s tone had lost its mocking tone, rather it was soft and understanding. His lips curled upward easily before words escaped them. “Focus on the potion, repeat after me. And I beg of you, don’t stutter.”

Junhong nodded furiously, determination set in his features; then he closed his eyes slowly, trying to focus on summoning every bit of his magic. He felt a pulsation through the tips of his fingers.

 

“F̴̓ɪ̶̛ᴀ̸̈ᴛ̵̂ ̴̔ʀ̴̌ᴇ̸̅ɴ̸͆ᴀ̵̀s̶̈́ᴄ̸̊ɪ̴̎ ̴̕ᴅ̶͝ᴇ̵̛ ̶̈ᴘ̴̀ᴜ̸̀ʟ̸̔ᴠ̴̃ᴇ̷̊ʀ̸́ᴇ̶̊ ̴͊ᴏ̸̅s̴̏s̸͛ᴀ̸̈́ ̴̛ᴍ̴̀ᴇ̴̐ᴀ̶̔.” The pot’s lid gave a disapproving growl as soon as the wizard started enunciating the spell.

 

“ɪ̵̃ɢ̵̄ɴ̸̍ɪ̸͑s̸͝ ̴̎ᴇ̵̈x̷́ ̴͛ғ̶̽ᴀ̷̛ᴠ̴͛ɪ̴͝ʟ̷͘ʟ̶͝ᴀ̴̈́,”

 

Junhong kept his eyes closed as he repeated, the throbbing feeling through his body becoming painful; he heard the lid shake violently, causing a metallic rumble, but he tried to pay it no mind.

 

“ᴇ̷̈́ᴛ̸̿ ̸̅ᴘ̸̏ᴜ̶̒ᴛ̶́ʀ̷̄ᴇ̶̂ᴅ̵̋ɪ̶̓ɴ̸̌ᴇ̸̆ᴍ̸̎ ̷̈ᴄ̴̿ᴀ̶̃ʀ̵̐ɴ̸̀ᴇ̸̔ᴍ̶̀.”

 

He heard a clacking sound and more thundering, but the creature’s voice was staying unwavering, and he decided he had to trust him. He had to keep his eyes closed and focus.

 

“D̸̚ᴀ̶̅ ̴̀ᴀ̶́ʟ̵̅ɪ̵̀ᴜ̸͝s̸̆ ̵̇ᴄ̷͑ᴀ̸̄s̸͒ᴜ̴̀s̸͗ ̸͘ᴛ̴̅ᴀ̸̓ʙ̷͌ᴇ̶͝ᴍ̵̿,

“ᴍ̷͗ᴏ̵͋ʀ̵͌ʙ̴̽ᴏ̷͝,

“ᴍ̶́ᴏ̸̒ʀ̵̇ᴛ̸͌ᴇ̴̀ᴍ̸͊.”

 

His magic violently kicked through him as he seemed to be reaching the peak of the spell. The other’s voice was gaining in intensity, too, as though he knew it was getting difficult for Junhong to hear him. He briefly wondered what the buzzing sound in his ears could be, or if it was coming from his vibrating brain, and his palms must have caught fire at some point because he couldn’t feel them anymore, if not for a burning pain where they were supposed to be.

 

“F̴̓ɪ̶̛ᴀ̸̈ᴛ̵̂ ̴̔ʀ̴̌ᴇ̸̅ɴ̸͆ᴀ̵̀s̶̈́ᴄ̸̊ɪ̴̎.”

 

Junhong re-opened his eyes immediately, yet could see no shaking pot, nor any fire in his palms, nor could he feel his power kicking in him, nor could he hear anything buzzing. Everything was gone, as though he just had a delirium and nothing happened — he was reassured, however, by the pale golden steam escaping from the water, efficiently proving it had been magically altered.

He turned his head slowly towards the feline, face first and gaze following sheepishly a bit later, as though looking for any kind of approval. He was surprised to find him gawking at the pot, to see his eyes wide, his ears drawn back in obvious confusion for a reason he could not quite comprehend. His expression turned deadly serious once he found Junhong’s gaze on him, yet he still said no words and simply stared as though he was looking for something in his eyes.

Junhong was about to panic, overwhelmed by a situation he understood nothing of, but then the creature’s posture finally eased into a more casual one, his tail going back to its unstoppable swing.

 

“Now, let it rest for forty-five minutes.” He grinned lazily. “And give me a bit of your cream, meatball, I’m in _pain_.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~ ♡  
> I'm sorry for updating only once every month or so, but I actually am quite busy with a lot of things (like getting a job, a car, an apartment and managing to keep good grades without having a breakdown), so The Awakening isn't on top of my priority list at the moment.  
> It will definitely be completed though, do not worry! 
> 
> The next chapter will be titled “The Hurtful Truth”. See you!


	5. The Hurtful Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m going to die.”

“So, what was your name again?”

 

Junhong almost jumped in surprise, for the other’s presence had become only a distant memory. They had been sitting on his leather couch in a serene silence for a while — he had eventually lost track of time, skimming through his telekinesis manual, and the familiar sprawled beside him  with his legs pressed firmly against his had completely left his mind.

His eyes fluttered towards him.

 

“Junhong.” He answered flatly. “Junhong Smith. And y—”

 

“Smith, huh?” The boy cut him before he could finish, eyebrows shooting impossibly high.

 

“Yes, my father is Irish.”

 

“Really, now.”

 

Silence fell back on the room, as the panther seemed to thoroughly consider this new piece of information. His expression passed through several states, going from surprise to mockery, to doubt and mistrust, at such an unbelievable speed that they all seemed to blend together. Junhong narrowed his eyes, upset — he was pretty sure he still knew his name, and the other’s disbelief made him frustrated beyond explanation; yet he was well aware that the man wasn’t in his right mind because of his aching leg, and that it could be enough of a reason for his sudden feverish behaviour.

 

Finally, the familiar’s grimace morphed into a sly smile of acceptance, and his gaze softened.

 

“Very well, Junhong. I’m Youngjae.”

 

“Nice to meet you.”

 

Youngjae smiled at him, lids fluttering close in leisure blinks, and the simple move turned his grin a dozen times more sensual, though the wizard couldn’t know if he was being flirtatious on purpose or if the slow acts were part of his feline instincts. And perhaps was it just because the familiar was in pain, as the sweat running down his temple seemed to suggest. He looked away.

 

“The potion should be ready by now. Let’s get you patched up and go to bed.” He saw the other tilt his head, eyes wide in wonder. “By _‘go to bed’_ , I meant _I_ go to _my bed_ , and you sleep on the couch.”

 

Youngjae huffed. “How about making me sleep in the gutter while we’re at it?”

 

“Don’t over do it.” Junhong muttered. A light headache was pumping its way through his head, and he felt the desperate need to rest. “If you want to sleep under the stars, suit yourself, but you won’t get my bed. Discussion’s over.”

 

“I’m not sleeping on the couch. Discussion, restart!” He clasped his hands together like a film’s clapboard, eyes shining with mischief, and the wizard couldn’t help the look of utter exasperation settling in his features.

 

“I hope you realise you’re being a complete dick.” The retort earned him a wide smile, the other’s tail wiggling beside him. “What is it that you want, exactly?”

 

“Your king-size bed.” Youngjae shrugged nonchalantly, though still smiling. “You know what? I’m pretty sure the bear trap was set for you in these woods. You were supposed to die through horrible sufferings, but I took the shot for you. You could consider this pay back and quit whining.”

 

Junhong wasn’t too sure how to react, though the thought that maybe the other was having a delirium sat heavier on his mind. However, he couldn’t help but be curious about the mental process that led Youngjae to such conclusions.

 

“Why would anyone set a _bear trap_ for me, in woods I only visit once a month?” His eyes narrowed anew.

 

“Secret.” The panther chirped. “Can’t tell.”

 

“You’re just going nuts.”

 

The addressee drew his ears back in offence, his posture turning aggressive. “No, I’m not.”

 

They stayed immobile for a long while, staring into each other’s pupils as though they were both looking for something. But Youngjae ended up dozing off, the sweat slithering down his face forming tiny currents; and his lips parted open, his breathing became heavier. Junhong reached out to stroke the other’s bangs off his forehead, feeling cruelly powerless.

 

“Fine, you get the bed.” He finally said, his voice kept a whisper as he was afraid to startle the panther if it had been any louder. However, he didn’t miss the latter’s feeble grin. “Here, let me help you.”

 

Junhong carried the familiar to his bed, helped him out of his clothes, fed him some of the newly bred potion and applied more cream on his wound. He grew weary in the process, as he couldn’t shake the fear of waking up to a dead person in his bed, and the thought stayed with him even after he lay on the couch and closed his lids. It stayed with him the whole night for that matter, as he woke up several times from his turning and tossing.

 

He was jerked awake another time in the early morning, and almost panicked when he realised the feline’s muzzle was merely three inches away from him. The latter was buffeting in his ear, firing warm puffs of air against his face that sent chills run through his every bone; needless to precise the feeling was terribly disagreeable and unwelcome.

 

“Why did you panther back?” Junhong slurred, voice raspy as each new syllable hurt his dry throat more than the precedent. Youngjae gave him a pointed look. “I know you can’t answer, just turn back into your human form.”

 

The panther sat on his back legs, staring into Junhong’s sleepy eyes. If he had been at full capability, he would have been able to recognise what kind of sound the animal was making, but it passed past him as the morning blur lingered on his mind.

 

“Never mind, leave me alone.”

 

With this announcement, Junhong turned around, showing his back to the creature, and hoped it would be enough to dismiss him. However, he felt something _huge_ press against his shoulder blades, efficiently balancing him back and forth, and claws followed promptly, applying just enough pressure for the scratch to be unpleasant yet still harmless. He grunted.

 

“Fine!” Junhong kicked a cushion in the general direction of his window for good measure, then threw his legs off the couch and sat up lazily. He glared at the panther for some time, trying to find any visible reason that made him wake him up so early but found none — the feline eventually let out a low rumble in its impatience, and Junhong got up.   
He staggered toward the kitchen, the animal on his heels, and thought to himself it was probably one of the worst morning he had ever lived.

 

“Meat is nice, but how would you feel about having corn flakes this morning? ‘Don’t feel like cooking.” Junhong grumbled, head whole in his fridge.

 

The big cat stumped one of his paw on the ground to catch the wizard’s attention, and once he was sure he had it, pointed his muzzle toward the cooking pot containing the healing potion. His eyes turned back to Junhong, and as to ensure he understood, he then proceeded to lick his chops in an exaggerated manner.

 

The wizard lazily took the heavy pot off the stove and set it on the ground, then stood back to let the other drink. He noticed the wound on his legs, which still looked fresh and nowhere near any form of cicatrisation even though it had already been three days since he rescued him. Junhong felt a pang of guilt tug at his chest — if he hadn’t been so incompetent, maybe the familiar would have already been saved.

 

The latter drank more than half of the potion, loud gulps echoing through the quiet flat, before taking a step back and sending a warning look toward Junhong.   
He felt it again, maybe even more powerfully than the last time, as they were so close to each other — he felt the crash of foreign magic against his skin, the uneasiness and impression of being so ridiculously small compared to the energy he was facing. It only lasted some seconds, and Junhong couldn’t decide if it was too short or too long.

 

Youngjae was sitting on the floor tiles, curled on himself with his forehead resting on his knees, and didn’t bother looking up as Junhong kneeled beside him.

 

“Are you—” He cut himself off — no, the familiar was most probably not all right, and this was a terrible thing to ask.

 

Junhong stayed beside him long enough to lose track of time, quietly focused on the man. He wondered, with guilt — like his heart was being pinched, why wasn’t his magic efficient. Why was he always such an incapable, and what could have he done differently in the past few days to avoid such misfortune. However, as the other let out a sharp breath, pregnant with pain and sorrow, and raised his head to let it rest behind him, the wizard remembered it wasn’t all about him.

 

“I am going to die.”

 

Youngjae’s voice was so strained that Junhong couldn’t recognise it. The declaration shook something at his core; he felt the violent, overwhelming need to deny it, but the other boy glared at him through the corner of his half-closed eyes, and the look was enough to make him efficiently swallow back whatever he was about to say.

 

He hesitated an instant, maybe a minute, before asking, “Why isn’t the potion working? Is it because we didn’t use lotus?”

 

Youngjae tried to grin. “I guess I have under-rated the strength of this curse. Ah, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

 

“I will take you to my friend’s. His familiar — he’s just like you. We will find a way.”

 

He was sure Jongup would find a solution — Jongup always had solutions. And if not him, all of the books that had been sitting on the library’s shelves for a milestone, or Daehyun, who was after all the counterpart of the panther, would make it better. Everything would come undone nicely, he hoped.

 

Without letting him any room for a defeatist comment, the wizard rose to his feet and walked towards his room, picked up the clothes they left aside the day before, and came back to the panther. He sat half passed out against the kitchen’s counter, as though it was the only thing still keeping him remotely composed. Junhong got down on his knees anew, and did his best to offer the other a reassuring smile as he passed his limbs through the T-Shirt’s openings.

 

As for the shorts, Junhong managed to slide them up to about half the other’s thighs, but since the familiar was still resting on the floor, he couldn’t advance further. He tried to tell Youngjae without words, with a slight stroke of thumbs on skin, and the latter obediently passed both of his arms against the taller man’s shoulders. Junhong used the countertop as leverage, one hand pressing against the panther’s back to hold him tight while lifting him, and managed to pull him up with a hint of relief. Youngjae almost fell back, but the wizard had him pinned safely between the furniture and his own body.

 

Junhong slid the fabric up all the way to the other’s waist, trapping the base of his tail under the waistband, and the other let out a whimper of discomfort in response.

 

“Could you actually…” Youngjae began to inquire hesitantly. “Cut a hole through the thing? My tail hurts when it’s compressed that way.”

 

“If we don’t hide it, people might see. It’s not like humans could see hybrids everyday here…” He did his best to sound apologetic.

 

“Humans can see their counterparts get shot in the face and still walk away like nothing happened. A cat tail has literally no shit on them.”

 

Junhong took a moment to consider — the statement was fairly arguable, but the familiar still had a point. At worse, people would think he was a fanatic or a weirdo.

By chance, his scissors weren’t too far away, so the wizard could grab them off their drawer without releasing the heavy body in his arms.

 

“All right.” He offered him a crooked smile. “But once we’re out the car, just let it fall behind you, like it’s a piece of fabric or something. Don’t wave it around.”

 

“I don’t _‘wave my tail around’_.” Youngjae sounded offended. “It’s a part of me. How would you feel if I was asking you not to move your arms, to act as if they had been glued to your shoulders?”

 

“People have arms, but it’s unlikely to be born with _a frikking tail_.”

 

“Oh I’m so sorry, did I hurt your human-way of perceiving normality?” He snickered lowly.

 

Junhong simply rolled his eyes, not wanting to start an argument as sterile as that one was, and turned the feline around to cut through his shorts. He tried to pass the tail through the tiny hole he had cut once, twice, and had to enlarge it before meeting any success.

 

He helped Youngjae hop up the counter and made him sat on it while he got ready — nothing fancy, Junhong actually dressed in no time, only gathering keys, phone, and a bottle of healing potion in his backpack, but by the time he came back in the kitchen, the panther had lost all sign of consciousness.

 

The wizard carried him all the way to his car, and even though his boyish form was way lighter than the animal’s, he hadn’t taken any strengthener in a while and started feeling its lack as soon as he passed his apartment’s door.  

Junhong first sat the familiar on the back seat, then made him lay down carefully. He sent a quick text to Jongup in order to inform him of his upcoming arrival (as well as some crucial details he hadn’t mentioned until then), and with a last glance in the rearview mirror to check on Youngjae, started the engine.

  
 

Youngjae still hadn’t woken by the time Junhong pulled over the library’s gigantic wooden doors. He checked their surroundings before helping him out, cautiously, and held him by the waist as he walked through the entrance.

 

The wizard slowly walked over Jongup’s desk — the boy was nowhere to be found, which wasn’t much of a surprise considering that the huge room’s benches were all empty, and rang the reception bell.

 

“Coming in a minute!” He heard from far away. He couldn’t see him, neither on the balcony at the end of room, nor suspended to a high shelf, and therefore decided to settle back his concern on the feeble figure in his arms. He gently pinched the elder’s arm.

 

“Youngjae? Wake up, we arrived.” He whispered, but received no answer. “Please, Jongup will make it better, just wake up.”

 

Daehyun was the first to arrive, hopping his way toward the reception in happy little jumps, but stopped neat once he noticed Youngjae. He resumed his steps after a second, approaching warily, suspiciously, ears drawn back. He sent a look to Junhong as for asking for permission, before he sniffed the hand hanging lifelessly out of his hold.

 

A new blast of life seemed to wind through Youngjae as his eyes snapped open. In panic, he jerked his limb away and launched himself deeper in Junhong’s arms, efficiently kicking the wolf’s face in the process. The feline let out an inhuman roar, which bounced through the walls of the empty hall, and vainly attempted to straighten up as best as he could to look threatening enough.

Daehyun, though he had first been startled enough to take a step back, raised his head higher at that, baring all of his teeth for the feline’s livid human form. He let out a growl that sent chills run down Junhong’s spine — he thus promptly pushed Youngjae out of the way, behind his back, and tried his best to mirror the wolf’s hard gaze.

 

“Daehyun.” He called his name with as much authority as he could gather in his soundless panic. “Don’t touch him.”

 

The latter only quieted down for a split second, just enough time for Youngjae to let out another puff of discontent, a tiny, rough grunt, which shattered Junhong’s order to piece. Daehyun barked as another warning.

 

“Daehyun!”

 

Junhong let out a sigh of relief when he heard Jongup’s voice.

 

“Daehyun! Still!” He buffeted, running toward his friend in messy fast steps. The wolf’s head fell, his chops covering back his sharp canines as he lowered himself to the ground. “Human form! Now!” Jongup ordered once he had reached Junhong’s side — Daehyun huffed, as though he had been shot in his pride, but obeyed nonetheless.

 

His dark brown eyes threw a nasty glare toward Junhong’s general direction, before settling back on Jongup. The familiar heaved a resolute sigh.

 

“Okay. Sorry.”

 

“ _Sorry?_ The boy’s dying, and first thing you do is attacking him? What part of _saving his life_ didn’t you get?!”

 

“That fleabag started it!”

 

Youngjae let out an outraged gasp. “Go to hell, bitch!”

 

Junhong’s eyes opened impossibly wide in shock as he threw his arm behind his back, trying to silence the familiar with a light tap.

 

Daehyun’s expression turned darker, and he uncovered his teeth in rage. He didn’t have the time to retort anything before Jongup gave him a harsh slap on the arm.

 

“You two, _shut it_.” The latter commended in an excessively loud tone.

 

Youngjae was about to argue some more, but the severe look on Junhong’s face made him swallow back whatever he was about to say.

 

“Bring him upstairs, in the private room.” Jongup’s voice softened as he turned his eyes back on his friend. “He needs to lay down, so we’re going to read and work there. Daehyun, you,” He pointed an accusing finger toward his familiar. “You get your clothes on and take care of the potential customers — don’t forget to hide your ears. No _buts_ , or I’m casting a really nasty spell on your ass, understood?”

 

Daehyun growled, yet knew better than to object.

 

“Stupid dog.” Youngjae whispered — the wolf snapped his glare back toward him, wrinkled his nose and seemed to ready himself to shout back, yet no sound ever left his mouth. He simply turned around anew and walked past the back door in utter silence.

 

Carrying Youngjae up the eighty-six steps leading to the private salon proved itself to be more difficult than expected, even with Jongup’s help. Junhong made the familiar drink some more of their healing potion before helping him lay down on the cushions.   
The salon was a huge room, decorated in shades of crimson and black — it was dimly lit as the only source of natural light was brought through the huge clock’s dial, inlaid in the wall. The room appeared tiny, yet managed to harbour all of Jongup’s private collection (which represented around twenty full shelves) plus a long couch and a coffee table.

 

The elder looked through the few books set under the table, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Junhong made sure Youngjae fell back asleep before finally sitting on the sofa beside him.

 

“Do you have any information about the wound?”

 

He hummed pensively. “Well, no regular healing potion seems to be efficient on it. We also tried a regeneration spell… And, hum, Youngjae mentioned something about it being a curse.”

 

“A curse? How would he know it’s not regular animal poison?”

 

Junhong’s uncomfortable shrug was his sole reply.

 

“Did you touch the trap when you found it? Did you feel anything unusual?”

 

“I’m not sure… Well, it felt both cold and hot at the same time, but it didn’t actually burn my hand.”

 

The elder seemed to consider it for a moment. “It’s strange though, why would anyone set a magic trap on the human territory…”

 

Again, the younger could only shrug.

 

Jongup finally  stood up and walked over the nearest shelf, then  snatched five books off of it  and threw two towards his friend — they all were enormous, and Junhong grew weary they wouldn’t find a solution in time. Youngjae already looked so pale, each time he closed his eyes the wizard wondered if it was the last.

 

“So, what are we looking for?”

 

“Anything that could help against a curse.”

 

“We don’t even know what kind of curse it is.” Junhong grew annoyed. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, do whatever? You’re more skilled than I am, surely you already know what to do.”

 

“Except that I don’t.” Jongup sent the laying figure beside them an apologetic glance, although the boy was sound asleep. “We had very few classes about cursed objects. And absolutely no information about… this race of familiars. I mean, they’re exceptionally rare, about ninety-nine percents of wizards don’t know their existence is even remotely possible.”

 

“But you do.” Junhong pressed impatiently. “Daehyun can morph too, you know about their kind.”

 

“ _Yes_ , but then again, I have no idea how to cure someone that has been injured by cursed objects.”

 

“Stop fighting.”

 

Youngjae’s voice was muffled, strained with fatigue and pain, but still cut through their discussion like a sharp knife. He leisurely opened his lids, letting his eyes swing from the clock to the wizards, and tiredly closed them anew as he heaved a sigh.

 

“It does not matter.”

 

Junhong turned toward the feline in a swift motion, and pressed a hand against his hair as a comforting gesture. Had Youngjae been in any healthier state, he would have probably lost the limb.

 

“It does, Youngjae. We’re going to save you.”

 

When the wizard turned his gaze back toward his friend, he was surprised to find him glare at the familiar with his brows furrowed, as though he was pondering about something terribly important — and Junhong, once again, felt like he wasn’t quite grasping the situation entirely.

 

 

 


	6. The New Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongup, though he had never been loquacious, was certainly not the type of person to back away once an argument had started. His friend could read frustration in him, but the other had already conjured fire in his palm before he could react.

Jongup’s body felt stiff near his own, his eyes glued to the laying figure beside them with a profound authority that Junhong couldn’t understand. Yet, he could not bring himself to form any coherent words — he wasn’t much of a communicating person, and although he was greatly troubled by the other’s behaviour, he left all of his questions unsaid.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait a lot longer before Jongup broke the heavy silence.

 

“You actually know the cure, don’t you?”

 

Youngjae snapped his eyes wide open. He didn’t have to let them wander around the room to find the two wizards this time, immediately spotting the boy’s pair on him, and stared back. If the familiar had felt any emotions, he kept them under a tight control, seeing that none could be read on his face.

 

“Of course he doesn’t. It’s his  _life_  that is at stack, Jongup.”

 

The latter did a great job ignoring him, eyes still locked with the familiar’s in some sort of staring battle, and they let the younger wizard feel completely left out of what was happening. The air turned dense as the clock in the wall seemed to have stopped.

 

“Say it.” Jongup ordered, voice low and commanding.

 

Youngjae’s eyes looked as though they were shining in the dimmed light of the room, yet he still expressed no sign of acknowledgement or understanding. Junhong was about to intervene anew, but cut himself in his tracks once he noticed the panther’s voice, flat and small, struggling to rise.

 

“I have no remedy.”

 

He blinked sleepily, re-adjusted his head on the pillow he was resting on, but never once left the eldest wizard’s face unwatched. 

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“I don’t know any cure.”

 

“Lies, lies, lies.”

 

“Jongup, stop.” Junhong was growing more anguished by the second as their exchange went on, and on, and on, yet still couldn’t manage to get any reaction from the others.

 

The other wizard heaved a sign, eyes resting on the floor in front of him for an instant, then turned toward his friend with a hard look inlaid on his features. Junhong couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t catch what this signal had meant before it was too late, and Jongup was back to staring at the familiar.

 

“Why do you want to die?”

 

“I don’t actually want to die.” Youngjae’s voice wavered slightly on the last word. It was faint, but conveyed efficiently all the fear and turmoil the panther had been feeling all along — or so Junhong guessed.

 

“Tell us what’s the cure, then.”

 

The room fell silent another time, and Junhong could, quite literally, feel himself on the verge of suffocation. He twitched on the sofa, a stress-generated spasm taking control of his leg for a second.

 

“I would if I knew.” Youngjae repeated with confidence, and his tone had finality in it. 

 

Jongup, though he had never been loquacious, was certainly not the type of person to back away once an argument had started. His friend could read frustration in him, but the other had already conjured fire in his palm before he could react — he kept its flame small and harmless in its appearance, yet its bright red was enough indication on how much damage it could cause. Jongup let it dance in the air for a moment before slowly closing his fingers on it, hand forming a slack fist.

 

“You’re making us lose precious time,  _familiar_. If you’re so set on letting yourself die, I will help.”

 

Junhong seized his friend’s wrist before he could re-open his palm, and observed with relief the flame vanish at the contact of his magic.

 

“He does  _not_  know _._ Quit it.” He willed his tone firm and threatening, but couldn’t gather enough courage to stand up convincingly against his friend. After all, Jongup had always been as much as an ally as a real mentor in his learning, and the respect he had for the other man was making it hard for Junhong to properly defy him.

 

Youngjae was still curled up on himself on the couch, unmoving and seemingly unfazed. All too quietly to lessen Junhong’s nervousness, the familiar coughed, inhaled a shaky breath, and closed his lids. 

 

“I don’t know an absolute cure, that much is true.” The latter sighed. “But I may have an idea on how to heal myself.”

 

“Say it.” Jongup commended again, not noticing the look of pure distress on Junhong’s face.

 

“I think this curse is making me go through  _draining._ ” Youngjae was speaking slowly, not bothering to articulate each words properly as it was making him do too much effort, and he had too much to say. “My powers are flowing out because… Because I can’t feed on someone else’s magic to regenerate mine.”

 

Junhong felt ridiculously clueless about what the panther was talking about, but as he was still feeling betrayed and terribly unsettled by the other men’s behaviour, he said nothing about it and focused on listening.

 

“The  _boundless draining_ process?” Jongup asked, sounding surprised. “You have never been owned?”

 

The familiar’s sole reply was a faint shake of his head, which left enough time for the wizards to take notice of the sweat pearling on his forehead. The youngest felt the need to wipe it all away.

 

“Junhong doesn’t have a familiar.” Jongup blurted out all of a sudden. “He can help until you’re back on your feet. Then you break the bond and go your separate ways.”

 

“Tying two souls together isn’t that simple.” The wizard’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, a sorrowful expression twisting his features. “Bonding to a familiar is supposed to be a lifetime commitment. Youngjae and I don’t even know each other that well.”

 

“Wizards connect with their familiars when they are  _five,_ there’s no such thing as compatibility, destiny, affinity or whatever in a bonding ceremony.”

 

“I know! Trust me I do.” The addressee lowered his head for a moment in obvious affliction, before snapping his head back toward his friend. “What about the breaking? Isn’t it leaving both subjects magic-less for the rest of their lives?”

 

Jongup pinched his lips together tightly, eyes high yet avoiding, and Junhong knew he was going to hate whatever would happen after this.

 

“Brother, look…” He heaved a quiet sigh. “Even if you end up with no remaining power, end up  _human,_ what would be the big deal? It’s already a miracle you’ve reached this far.”

 

He could feel his skin tighten painfully around his throat as he gulped down. “Are you telling me I should give up on everything? All I have ever wantedand all I have ever been—?”

 

“You’ve never been a wizard, Junhong.”

 

Jongup rolled his bottom lip under his teeth, regret seeming to flood him immediately after realising what he had said, and he therefore threw a remorseful glance toward his friend — but all that met him was blankness, except for Junhong’s tense shoulders, which formed a threatening line around his neck. 

 

The latter finally rose to his feet, a dangerously edgy grin plastered on his face. “Okay, so, how much do I owe you for baby-sitting me this whole year?” 

 

“No, it’s not—”

 

Junhong didn’t bother listening to him, turning his back on him as a childish way to make him understand he would hear no more of his words from this moment on. Swiftly, he first swung his backpack on his shoulder, then bent near the couch, passed one arm under Youngjae’s back and another under his legs, and lifted the lifeless body up. He did not let himself show any sign of difficulty, pain or weakness in the process, only wishing to exit the library as fast as possible, with his dignity still whole. 

 

He went back to walking down the stairs’ eighty-six steps, in a rush at first but slower once he released he couldn’t hear anyone following him. Daehyun sent him a mildly surprised look when he passed past the reception’s desk, yet didn’t try to stop him as the wizard walked through the wooden doors leading outside. 

 

Junhong delicately released Youngjae’s legs, only supporting him thanks to the tight grip he had on his waist, and opened the passenger door of his car. 

Finally, he sat him inside and bent over the boy to buckle the seatbelt; but as the wizard backed away, he was startled to find the panther’s gaze on him. He stood immobile above the other’s body, their faces only a few inches apart, before Youngjae offered him a half-hearted smile which made him tear his eyes away. Junhong wordlessly straightened back up, cautious not to hit the car’s headliner with his head, and slammed the door shut.

 

Once installed on the driver seat, Junhong didn’t look at the familiar beside him anymore — he started the engine, and hurriedly took off.

 

 

 

No words were exchanged between them for a very long time. Junhong suspected Youngjae to be well awake, but pretending to sleep to avoid mentioning the matter at hand. Therefore, the young wizard ran around his apartment a huge part of the afternoon; he cleaned all the utensils he had been using for Youngjae thoroughly, re-organised his vials by order of decay, and his book by dates of publication. It was only around eleven in the evening that Junhong felt calm enough to stop his pacing.

He sat on couch, beside the spot the panther was occupying in his naked human form, and heaved a loud, somewhat obnoxious sigh to catch his attention. As expected, the other didn’t react.

 

“So, Youngjae.” He started, smoothly pivoting his head in the familiar’s direction. “Either you perish in monstrous, horrifying pain; or we both lose our powers.”

 

The addressed man blinked his eyes open lazily, yet did not look at the wizard, nor did he show any sign of acknowledgement. Junhong let his head fall behind him with a sigh, allowing his body to go lax as he stared at his ceiling. They stayed immobile for a long while. 

 

“Do you want to die?” Junhong heard himself ask, though his voice wasn’t louder than a whisper.

 

“I don’t mind…”

 

“You’re lying again.”

 

Silence fell back on the room heavily, long enough for the wizard to think Youngjae would never answer his accusation. However, he eventually saw him curl tighter on himself, head lowering, chin now pressed firmly against his own chest, and knees almost reaching his forehead. 

 

“Yeah… Yeah I am.” His voice was muffled by his own body.

 

“Do you want to bond with me then?”

 

“No…”

 

Junhong let his hand slide from his stomach to the empty space on the couch between the boy’s tail and his own thigh. He sent an aggravated glare toward the other, yet couldn’t see his face as his shoulder was blocking the view, and went back to his scrupulous examination of the ceiling.

 

“Is it because I’m ‘ _not a wizard’_? Or a worthless one?”

 

“Neither.” Youngjae was quick to reply, his tone firm. “I don’t want to force you.”

 

“Jongup’s right.” The wizard’s face broke into a crooked, bitter grin. “It’s no big deal if I lose my magic. You shouldn’t worry about such trivial things.”

 

“There are a lot of things you do not know, meatball. Your dream will destroy you.” 

 

Junhong heard the other’s voice becoming more distant by the second, consciousness pouring out of him at a worrying speed, and suddenly realised the feline’s time was counted.

 

“How would you know? How could you know these things?”

 

“I won’t tell you.” Youngjae twisted his torso, helping himself of his hand to lay on his back. “But bonding with me, all this power that would be circulating between us… It would be dangerous. Living as a human would be safer for you.”

 

Junhong whipped his head around, and observed the familiar’s livid figure thoroughly. His skin was recovered in sweat, leaving the couch’s fabric damp underneath; his tail was laying lifelessly on his thigh, his jaw was hanging open, and his chest seemed to have stopped moving. He already looked like a corpse, only scarier. 

He couldn’t help but extend his arm, hand falling down on the panther’s knee, where he gently stroked the skin — the tingle of electricity he felt lingering on his finger after he had retrieved his hand was enough to make him take a decision.

 

Wordlessly, Junhong rose to his feet and walked over the shelf above his television. There, he picked a spell manual and sent it fly to the spot he had previously occupied on the couch, then hurried out of the room, to his workshop. 

He knew the steps of the ritual by heart, as he had often re-read through it to fill his lonely nights; though these circumstances certainly weren’t the ones the wizard had imagined, he accepted it as a twist of fate. His purposes had changed, anyway. He would actually save someone’s life, and he liked to think it was pure benevolence that made him pick his heaviest silver knife and finest set of ceremonial candles.

 

He came back in the living room merely two minutes later, and dropped all of his equipment on the coffee table in front of the couch. Youngjae tried to crack an eye open, only wide enough for Junhong to see they were reversed back into his skull. A shiver ran down his spine.

 

The wizard snatched his backpack off the ground and forced two mouthful of healing potion down the familiar’s throat, accidentally spilling some as he had lost all control over his trembling hands.

 

“I will save you, I promise, but you need to hold on tight, alright? I need you to be alive buddy.” He tentatively patted the other’s cheek to force him awake. “I’m going to treat you to a meat house or something once it’s over. Unlimited buffet and all.”

 

He noticed Youngjae’s right ear twitch faintly at that, and smiled to himself.

 

“That’s right. So switch back to your animal form and let’s get this over with.”

 

Junhong placed the bottle on the coffee table, next to the candles that he lit with nothing but his own hand, before turning back toward the couch. Youngjae’s eyes were only half-open, still unfocused though they were searching for the wizard’s with vigour. 

 

“You’ll regret it.” He mouthed.

 

Junhong didn’t have the time to reply before the panther’s power crashed on him, with less intensity that it had done in the morning, yet still with enough strength to knock the air out of his lungs. White light spread around them, and the next thing the wizard saw were two round, glassy eyes staring back at him with wonder.

 

The younger heaved a determined sigh, more to encourage himself than anything, and sat down on the floor, facing the spell book. He opened it at the right page, grabbed the knife, and closed his lids as he sank the blade in his forearm, the vivid pain making him wince. 

Once he was done, he twisted around to look at the panther, who simply budged his huge paw closer to him. Junhong held it tightly as the blade lacerated the flesh, and softly shushed the other’s pained whimper.

 

_“ᴀ̵ɴ̶ɪ̷ᴍ̶ᴀ̴ ̸ɴ̶ᴏ̴s̷ᴛ̶ʀ̸ᴀ̵ ̶ʟ̸ɪ̶ɢ̷ᴀ̵ᴛ̷ᴀ̵ ̷ʀ̸ᴇ̵ʟ̶ɪ̸ǫ̸ᴜ̵ɪ̵s̴ ̴ᴀ̷ᴇ̴ᴛ̷ᴇ̸ʀ̶ɴ̴ɪ̴ᴛ̶ᴀ̸ᴛ̸ɪ̸s̸.”_

 

The wizard pressed his arm against the other’s limb, letting his own blood pour down the fresh cut on the familiar’s paw, watching their sanguine fluids blend together and slither down their skins.

 

_“ᴇ̴ʟ̵ɪ̸ɢ̴ᴏ̶ ̴ᴠ̸ᴏ̴s̷ ̴ᴇ̷ʀ̶ɪ̷ᴛ̷ɪ̷s̵ ̴ᴍ̸ɪ̴ʜ̷ɪ̵ ̸ᴘ̷ᴇ̷ʀ̸ᴘ̵ᴇ̵ᴛ̸ᴜ̶ᴀ̸ᴍ̶ ̵ғ̴ᴀ̴ᴍ̶ɪ̵ʟ̸ɪ̵ᴀ̶ʀ̵ɪ̵s̷.”_

 

An unexpected feeling of fever hit Junhong, starting from the wound on his arm, then spreading quickly to his whole body. He didn’t back away, grip only tightening against the other’s leg.

 

_“s̴ᴏ̷ʟ̴ᴜ̶ᴍ̶ ̷ɴ̸ᴏ̵ʙ̷ɪ̶s̶,̴ ̴ɪ̸ɴ̷ ̵ᴠ̸ɪ̶ᴛ̶ᴀ̷ ̴ᴄ̷ᴏ̶ʀ̶ᴘ̵ᴏ̴ʀ̵ɪ̷s̸ ̴ᴇ̸ᴛ̶ ̴ᴜ̵ʟ̵ᴛ̴ʀ̷ᴀ̴.”_

 

The heat spread to his chest, getting dangerously close to his heart — he could feel electricity pump through his veins, and his head was spinning from the pain and pressure. He gritted his teeth, jaw clenched tight, then closed his eyes. Why had it never been mentioned anywhere that bonding was so hurtful?

 

“ᴍ̵ɪ̷ʜ̶ɪ̵ ̸ᴘ̷ᴇ̶ʀ̴ᴘ̷ᴇ̶ᴛ̷ᴜ̵ᴀ̶ᴍ̷ ̴ғ̴ᴀ̸ᴍ̶ɪ̵ʟ̸ɪ̷ᴀ̴ʀ̴ɪ̸s̷”

 

The burning feeling cooled down enough for him to take back control on his own body, the turmoil and ache slowly wearing off, and Junhong found himself realising that he was aware of nothing save the familiar’s peaceful breathing.

 

“You have to mark me.” He whispered, removing his arm from the other’s limb.

 

Youngjae slowly blinked his eyes open, dazed.

 

Usually, marks were left on discreet places, as they were considered magnificent proofs of intimacy, a secret shared by lifetime companions — Junhong’s legs were far more fleshy than those of five year old boys, however, and though he had no doubt they could fit in a panther’s mouth, Youngjae seemed too tired to pierce through it. Therefore, without giving it a second thought, the wizard raised his palm to the familiar’s muzzle, helping his jaw open, and slid his hand in between the sharp canines.

 

“Bite me.” He ordered, voice low. 

 

Youngjae threw him an hesitant look, the ridge above his round eyes wavering slightly, before he resolutely snapped his jaw shut on the other’s palm. Junhong let out a piercing cry, pain shooting through his whole body as he could feel the sharp teeth break through his bones. He let his head fall on the couch’s border to avoid the sight of his own blood dripping down the creature’s chin and tinting crimson the white fur around his mouth. Youngjae pushed deeper into the flesh and bones, lightly squeezing, before finally pulling away.

 

Junhong brought the hand to his chest, though he couldn’t feel it anymore, and patiently waited for a change.

But nothing came.

 

“How are you feeling?” He asked the other, hesitant.

 

The panther simply shook his head.

 

“Is this normal? I mean, that we don’t… You know?” Junhong raised his head, then turned his body toward the familiar fully. “It’s bizarre, right. I thought it would change something, but it’s all so quiet. Did I screw up somewhere?”

 

Youngjae shook his head another time, before lowering his tired eyes to the other’s hand. He moved his huge muzzle toward it slowly, then gave the wound a tentative lick. Junhong didn’t back away, although to be fair, it tickled pretty badly.

 

“I’ve never heard about a bonding failure.” He whispered, eyes lowering down to his crossed legs in shame. “I’m sorry, Youngjae. I’m so sorry.”

 

Junhong used his healthy hand to scratch a spot of soft fur behind the panther’s ear.

The latter let out a murmur of approval before raising his head and nudging the other’s cheek with his snout in what could have been tender, if it hadn’t been so faint. Junhong’s features broke into a weary, sorrowful smile, as he turned his head away — it was actually heartbreaking, thinking Youngjae would die just because he was too much of a good-for-nothing to bond properly with a familiar. 

 

Before he could sink too deep in his silent self-loathing, Junhong felt the fever crash back on him violently. His first instinct was to look at Youngjae, who had let his head fall on his paws, and then checked his hand — it was glowing, a blinding white light escaping it through the holes the panther’s teeth had left. Junhong didn’t have the time to panic or wonder as a new burning sensation ran through his system and tore apart any coherent thoughts he still had.

 

It lasted forever, or at least that’s what it seemed like. It was a never-ending circle of pain, and every time Junhong felt it ebb away from him, retrieving some of his consciousness, the ache crashed back on him even more brutally than before, and the whistling in his ears grew louder and louder.

 

When the haze dissipated, and although some kind of sickness stuck to him, all Junhong could feel was the other’s heavy head against his own on the couch’s brim. The mere presence of the familiar wrapped him in relief and reassurance, and the burning morphed into a warmth that he couldn’t comprehend. 

 

“It worked.” Junhong gasped. “I think it worked.”

 

Since he did not receive any answer, the wizard lifted his head up to gaze at the familiar, and slightly panicked when he realised the latter had passed out again.

 

“Youngjae?” Junhong shook the other’s massive body with his healthy hand. “You’re not dead, right?”

 

Surely, he would not be — otherwise the wizard wouldn’t feel this peacefulness all around him. 

Releasing a sigh, Junhong stood up. They both needed to rest, and he believed Youngjae would get better from this moment on. When time would come, they would break the bond and both of them would go their merry way.

 

Now that the bond had been created, Junhong had to accept the inevitable loss of his power and start to grieve. He was going to go back to his human lifestyle, and Youngjae, to his forest. And everything would be back to normal.

 

As Junhong struggled to bandage his wounded hand with clean gauze, he couldn’t shake away the overwhelming feeling of  _repulsion_ such thoughts awoke in him. He couldn’t determine what made him so sick about it, and concluded that perhaps, it was because of his childish egoism. Perhaps he did not want to give up his future in the Land after all, or the feeling of peacefulness surrounding him, or his very own power, which he was still discovering days after days. And perhaps was it because he did not want to let the other go, for fear of being alone anew. 

 

Junhong chose not to stay near  _his_ familiar that night, preferring the comfort of his own sheets over the hardness of his wooden floor. However, as hours passed, the wait for tiredness to knock him out made him ill. He realised the battle against his new basic instincts was lost before it even begun — the bond was tugging at his soul, leaving him dizzy, restless, uneasy.

And indeed, he only fell asleep once he was back on the living room’s floor.

 


	7. The Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Junhong walked up the stairs of his apartment complex and through the corridor leading to his door, he could feel the warmth wrapping his chest buzz and tremble. He assumed it was simply because he was happy of being back home, yet forbade himself to think deeper about what home meant to him now.

It was when he woke up that it hit Junhong fully — he had  _bonded_. 

The thought made him shudder, yet the scariest, he thought, was undeniably the warmth lingering on his chest, heavy and strangely soothing. His skin felt swollen, as if pulled by force around his muscles, but not painfully so. He had the impression his magic became too massive to be contained in a body as simple as his, as though it was looking for more, trying to kick him from the inside to make him grow bigger. He moved his wounded hand tentatively, stretched his fingers to test their reactivity, yet all of his limbs felt like a blur, like they weren’t there to begin with — Junhong would have panicked, he would have screamed and looked for a  _solution_ if not for the sleepiness that was still pressing on his brain. He was calm and relaxed, yet these emotions did not feel as genuine as his own would, as if they had been made up to keep him in place, and Junhong didn’t find the strength to fight against this fake peacefulness.

 

So he stayed on his floor, eyes closed, and thought. He had  _bonded_.

He found himself incapable of grasping the full meaning of his new condition — if it meant anything really. After all, it was supposed to be just like a one-night stand; though Junhong wasn’t well accustomed with the concept, he knew its etiquette: no promises, no extra-investment, no emotional attachment. 

For the latter though, it already looked difficult to hold on to such a rule. Junhong could literally  _feel_ Youngjae around him, and he did so with all of his senses. The electric touch of his skin, the memory his eyes left him, the smell of fresh air and wood he carried, the sound of his quiet breathing. And the taste, well — Junhong preferred to ignore that one.

His fuzzy mind only let him get up one step at a time, first grabbing the coffee table’s top, then pulling himself up to sit, then standing. Junhong didn’t feel in control of his own body, yet still managed to take a shower and get ready; Youngjae was still sleeping soundly, so he figured he had enough time to buy and cook meat for his breakfast. Lunch. Whatever the time was.

 

And meat he bought — an unhealthy amount at that. His trolley was filled up to its edge by all kind of animals’ flesh, which earned him a few surprised glances from people crossing his way. But Junhong felt drugged out of rationality, and assumed that, although purchasing about $136.84 of meat could look suspicious to humans, it was no one’s business what he would do with these. They couldn’t understand what taking care of a dying panther was like, anyway.

 

As Junhong walked up the stairs of his apartment complex and through the corridor leading to his door, he could feel the warmth wrapping his chest buzz and tremble. He assumed it was simply because he was happy of being back home, yet forbade himself to think deeper about what  _home_ meant to him now.

When Junhong stepped back into his apartment, he did not have to check his living room to know Youngjae was awake. The bond told him first, but the sound of water running from the bathroom was a good enough indication — therefore, the wizard mindlessly set all of his plastic bags down on the kitchen’s top, and sat beside them, head instinctively inclining to rest on the wall near him. He looked at his wounded hand and noticed only a discreet mark of teeth remained engraved in his flesh, the rest already healed by his magic. He still had a huge, dark bruise, yet wasn’t constrained by it: when prompted, his fingers moved just fine and no pain followed their dance. Junhong actually felt more relaxed than he had been in a lifetime.

He had probably dozed off, but awareness filled him back as soon as he felt Youngjae’s presence near. He straightened his back as the latter stepped in the kitchen, naked as a jaybird, with only a towel hanging on his head. They greeted each other with a smile, silently agreeing on the fact words weren’t needed between them anymore. Junhong, however, assumed the mood would quickly turn awkward if he didn’t say something.

 

“I bought you meat.”

“I know,” Youngjae stated with a nod and a smile, “Thanks.”

“How much should I cook?”

 

The familiar tilted his head, amused. “ _Cook_? Just so you know, I don’t have the opportunity to make myself Sunday barbecues in the wild, nor do I eat my pastas Al Dente. Raw will do.”

“But you’re in your human form… You have to take care of your stomach.” Youngjae cocked an eyebrow at him, which turned the wizard into a self-conscious mess, and made him wary of any eye contact. Setting his eyes on the wall beside him, he muttered, “Or something.” 

“Human forms are nothing, Junhong.” Youngjae lightly tapped the younger’s thigh, making him take heed and shift closer to the wall. He then pushed the plastic bag further aside, and hopped up on the counter as though his leg had never been wounded. “I am a  _jaguar,_ from a specie specific to the Land. The fact that I can turn into a furless vegetables-eater and communicate with words is nothing but a plain, little tweak.”

 

 Youngjae ripped one of the plastic wrapper open, extracting a raw steak from its bloody juice and brought it to his mouth. Junhong watched him chew on it with a mixture of amazement and disgust.

 

“What made you… A ‘ _hybrid_ ’?”

“What made you a wizard, Junhong?” 

 

For an instant, the addressee really thought Youngjae was waiting for a reply, his mind running in circles to find a convincing one (yet could apparently not think about any other answer than “ _Magic_ ”, “ _Nature_ ”, “ _God_ ” or “ _passion_ ”, “ _studies_ ”). To his relief, the elder grabbed another pack of meat, tore it open, and said with a chicken leg rolling in between his fingers; “ _Family_.”

 

“Family.” Junhong repeated, incredulous.

“My parents were  _weres_  too — take note of the term, don’t call me hybrid anymore. Anyway, I have a pretty nice bloodline if you wanna’ ask.”

The wizard nodded. “Do you have any sibling?”

 

Although Junhong couldn’t read any change of mood on Youngjae’s face, his aura seemed to darken at the mention of family, and he grew scared he had accidentally stepped out of line.

 

“One older brother. He may be dead, for all I know.”

“Oh.” Junhong stayed silent for a moment, but curiosity got the best of him; and though he felt as though he was walking on eggs, he pursued, “So you don’t have any contact with your family? Or friends?”

“None.” And Youngjae looked absolutely unaffected, throwing the chicken bone away and dipping his hand further into the plastic bag full of meat packs. “See, you could have let me die. No one would have regretted me.”

“I would have though…” Junhong mumbled under his breath, loud enough to be heard, but faint enough to be easily ignored. Youngjae managed to smile even if his teeth were tightly clenched around another chicken leg. 

“I doubt it.” He chewed on the uncooked meat before swallowing the mouthful down; and his grin fell. “It would have been better for both of us if the bonding ceremony had failed.”

“What do you mean?”

 

Junhong caught Youngjae shrug from the corner of his eyes, and grew impossibly upset.

 

“Could you please,  _please_  drop the  _‘I-know-something-that-you-don’t’_  act?!”

 

The panther offered him an unconvincing smile that didn’t reach his eyes, before shaking his head, as though he was amused by a child’s clumsiness.

 

“You will understand, one day.” Youngjae rolled the chicken’s plastic wrapper into a ball and aimed for the trash bin — he didn’t miss, which could have been remarkable or impressive if Junhong’s kitchen hadn’t been fifty-five square feet. “So, what shall we do today?”

 

The wizard understood he wouldn’t pull any answer out of the other — for now, at least — and chose not to insist, though he felt like a fire had been lit inside his stomach.

 

“Depends on how is your leg.”

“Better. You can feel it without asking though.”

 

Junhong’s eyes fell on the other’s wound, staring with intensity. And indeed, the panther was right — he could feel a sly itch on his leg, exactly where the wound would be. Instinctively, and without tearing his eyes away, the wizard let his hand run on his jeans, fingers scraping the fabric lightly. If he focused hard enough, he could almost  _remember_ how painful it had felt before, and winced. His eyes met Youngjae’s shining ones, and the fondness he found in his deep brown orbs knocked the breath out of his lungs.

 

“We could, huh. Watch a movie.”

 

Youngjae’s expression morphed into one of disbelief and annoyance — he gave the other a pointed look.

 

“Have a walk? I don’t know, I could buy a pretty cat tree for your claws or braid your fluffy fur with blue ribbons.”

“ _Jeez,_ stop.” The panther let out a raged breath, half way between a sneeze and a scream, his frown deepening. “ _Or_ , we could train. Magical training.”

“Oh yeah, we could go to the park and throw fireballs at trees until we set the whole forest ablaze. Nice.”

“Not the park.” Junhong could have swore he saw fear pass through the other’s eyes for a split second. “At your friend’s. We could compete against them, right?”

 

Out of all the places Junhong wished he would be at the moment, the library was definitely not one of them. Bitterness and anger mixed inside of him, the peaceful warmth set there slowly replaced by the burning trace of rage. And maybe sadness — maybe.

 

“How about we practice on potions? I have some ingredients that will expire if I don’t use them soon.”

“But potions are  _boring_.” Youngjae drawled, letting each letters roll on his tongue for emphasis. “Seriously, I want to smite the mongrel.”

“No, not today.”

 

Youngjae’s tail somehow landed on his laps, slowly moving from his knees to his torso, and Junhong felt ridiculous for the blush creeping on his cheeks.

 

“I thought you wanted to enter the Magic Academy though…” The feline offered him a glacial smirk, tone provoking.

“I did.” Junhong eyed him warily. “It doesn’t matter anymore though, drop it.”

“Why so? Who said breaking the bond was the only choice we had?”

 

For a long while, the wizard only stared at him, considering. He was doubtful about what the other had meant, unsure of what he was supposed to understand from these words. Junhong’s lids fluttered shut as he heaved a sigh — this couldn’t be another one of Youngjae’s mind games, could it? Surely, the panther could feel how much it hurt to think about his crushed dreams.

Junhong tugged at the incorporeal bond between them in search of answers he couldn’t find by himself, but all that met him was silence and  _multicoloured_   _light._

Definitely another one of Youngjae’s sick mind games.

 

“You want us to stick together?” He asked, distrustful, as he re-opened his eyes.

“Why wouldn’t we,  _Master_?”

 

Youngjae’s voice became terribly low and gravely, as though he was purring. The wizard felt the tail on his thigh twitch, and without a second thought, he brought one of his hand to it, fingers toying with the bone.

 

“You said this bond was a mistake.”

“Now that it’s done, we can work it out.” Youngjae’s grin was strange, unreadable, and only fuelled the uneasiness growing in the pit of the other’s stomach. “You need to be prepared for what’s about to come, Junhong, and that will be tough. We need to train, and we need to  _fight._ ”

“This is absurd.” He whispered, slowly curling his fingers around the familiar’s tail. “This is completely  _absurd._ ”

“You want to go to the library as much as I do, Junhong. Stop lying to yourself.”

 

The bond between them, though it had stayed weirdly quiet since they started talking, began to shiver, pull at him and kick, its repetitive thuds becoming deafening in Junhong’s mind. Once again, he was pretty sure he was being manipulated, be it by his familiar or the connection between their souls; it did not matter whose fault it was, anyway. He resisted for as long as he could, but the piercing look of Youngjae’s eyes burning holes through his own eventually made him flinch.

 

“Yes.” He gasped, and admired his familiar’s face split into a huge smile. “Yes I want to take my revenge.”

Youngjae let out an indecently pleased murmur before leaning into Junhong’s neck, and deposed a fast kiss under his jawline. As a ‘ _thank you for giving in_ ’, the latter presumed.

 

*  
*     *

 

When Junhong pushed open the library’s huge doors, the first thing he saw was Jongup sitting behind the reception desk — he sent the younger an hopeful look, eyes shining with regret and adoration, which made a quick work of his bitter resolution. The elder didn’t have the time to greet him properly though, loud barking and roar quickly reasoning through the hall.

 

Youngjae had morphed into his feline form anew, though he was still standing proudly by his owner’s legs, head high and challenging. Next to Jongup’s desk was Daehyun, laying on his belly with his head resting in between his paws. He growled a last time as a warning, before slowly standing. Jongup was about to snap his fingers to break the tension between the two familiars, but the second he moved his arm, they jumped at each other’s throat.

Junhong yelped in surprise, jumping out of the massive creatures’ way as quickly as he could. He screamed at them to stop, and genuinely wanted to interfere, but the fear of losing a limb was stronger; he thus watched, helpless, his familiar being slaughtered by the wolf. Jongup thundered orders — which, at any other time, would have made every single hair on Daehyun’s body raise in fear — but nothing helped.

 

Youngjae managed to break free and turned tail, merely escaping further into the gigantic room. A loud crashing sound was heard as the feline jumped on a wooden table, topping a lamp in his hurry; but unfortunately, Daehyun was at his feet in no time.

Jongup sent Junhong a determined look, one that suggested ‘ _follow my lead_ ’ and dashed toward them. The younger wizard didn’t take any time to think, blindly trusting whatever plan his friend had come up with.

 

_“ᴛ̴ᴇ̵ᴍ̸ᴘ̶ᴜ̸s̷ ̸ᴇ̶ᴛ̵ ̴s̶ᴘ̸ᴀ̸ᴛ̸ɪ̴ᴜ̴ᴍ̴ ̴ʀ̶ᴇ̸ʟ̷ɪ̵ǫ̷ᴜ̶ɪ̷ᴛ̴,”_ Jongup started chanting intensely.

 

Junhong followed, trying his best to remember the spell above the vociferous din the familiars were making. “ _ᴅ̸ᴀ̴ ̷ᴍ̷ɪ̵ʜ̸ɪ̴ ̵ᴛ̵ᴇ̸ᴍ̵ᴘ̵ᴜ̴s̷ ̷ᴘ̷ʀ̷ᴀ̸ᴇ̴ᴠ̸ᴇ̵ɴ̶ɪ̶ʀ̸ᴇ̷ ̵ɪ̵ʀ̷ʀ̴ɪ̷ᴛ̶ᴜ̸ᴍ̴._ ”

 

“ _ɴ̵ᴀ̴ᴍ̴ ̵ᴍ̸ᴇ̷ᴅ̸ɪ̴ᴜ̷ᴍ̵ ̵ᴀ̷ᴇ̴ʀ̵ɪ̵s̴ ̸ᴛ̶ᴇ̷ᴍ̶ᴘ̶ᴇ̵s̷ᴛ̵ᴀ̸s̵ ̴ᴘ̶ʀ̴ᴏ̸ʜ̷ɪ̸ʙ̸ᴇ̶ʀ̵ᴇ̴,”_

_ “ᴘ̴ᴏ̵ᴛ̶ᴇ̸s̴ᴛ̷ ̸ᴛ̵ᴇ̶ᴍ̷ᴘ̴ᴜ̷s̵ ̴s̷ᴜ̸s̴ᴘ̴ᴇ̶ɴ̵s̶ᴀ̵.” _

 

Both of the animals’ move slowed down, as though they were fighting a heavy sleep — and if Junhong hadn’t been in the middle of enunciating a spell, he would have let out a relieved sigh.

 

_ “ʜ̴ᴏ̵ʀ̷ᴏ̶ʟ̶ᴏ̴ɢ̵ɪ̶ᴜ̷ᴍ̶ ̵s̵ᴏ̸ɴ̴ᴀ̸ɴ̵s̸ ̸s̵ɪ̴s̸ᴛ̷ɪ̷ᴛ̵.” _

 

The familiars fell silent, frozen in action, and stood immobile in front of each other with questioning eyes. Youngjae was the first one to grasp the situation, and although he couldn’t move his head, he tried his best to send a glare toward Junhong’s general direction — one that was absurdly comical regarding his position.

“Grab yours, I’m taking mine. We need to talk.” Jongup stated, sternly encircling the wolf’s body with his arms. Without showing any sign of effort, he threw the figure above his shoulders like a poor backpack, unimpressed by the canine’s weight. Junhong obeyed, though he met more difficulty carrying his panther, and followed the elder through the library’s back door. It leaded to a tidy kitchenette, which opened on the backyard — Junhong had always loved brewing potions there.

He delicately set Youngjae’s unmoving body on the floor and ruffled the top of his head. The huge creature tried to growl, but his mouth was still held stagnant, turning all of his efforts into a complete waste.

 

“So huh, about yesterday…” Jongup began, facing the coffee-pot, busying himself with anything that could save him the tension. “That’s not what I meant, and I’m sorr—”

“You meant  _exactly_ what you said.” Junhong cut him in his tracks dryly. “It’s okay though. You were right.”

“No that’s not… That’s not really something I had the right to say.” The elder sounded petite, incredibly remorseful. 

“Yes, I agree. Yet you said it, so… Let’s just forget about it.”

Jongup offered him a warm smile. “Thank you.”

 

Junhong returned the mindless proof of affection, maybe not as wholly as he should have. He couldn’t deny he was still bitter, still slightly angry, but his friend was more important than mere resentments. Wasn’t he?

 

“So…” Jongup started, extending his arm to hand him a cup of coffee. The younger reached out to grab it, the bite mark obvious on his limb as he did so, and the other stared at it for a split second before moving to sit on the chair beside him. “You guys… Did it?”

“Bonding? Yeah. Huh, kinda.” Junhong spluttered, eyes falling on his beverage in shyness. 

“That’s… great. Really good.” 

“Yeah.”

 

Another heavy silence settled between them, the only interruptions being their quiet sipping and Daehyun’s small whines of dissatisfaction. They wouldn’t let their eyes meet, and the younger wasn’t sure of the reason behind both of their strange behaviour. He couldn’t understand himself fully, but he figured he still had a pretty obvious reason to be ill-at-ease, at least. What could be Jongup’s? Guilt wouldn’t do it.

And the silence. It was all so overwhelming.

 

“Actually…” Junhong began, hesitant. “I have a favour to ask you.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“A battle.” Jongup threw him a surprised glance that he held unblinkingly. “It would be with our familiars, this time. No potion shall be allowed — except maybe for Youngjae, because of his injury.”

“Look, if it’s still about what I said yesterday, I really—”

“I told you it was all forgotten. Just a friendly, no-sourness-involved, little fight.”

 

Jongup set his cup of coffee aside, sighing. “I accept. But I have one condition, too.”

 

The younger raised a brow, curiosity radiating from his whole being. As if on clue, a louder whine was heard behind them — Youngjae’s head dropped heavily on the floor, indicating the spell was slowly wearing off.

 

“No spell.” He stated, deadpan. The other couldn’t determine if he was being serious or joking, and could only narrow his eyes in disbelief.

“No spell, what?”

“We don’t use potions and we don’t use spells, we go with our natural strengths and basic magic. This is my sole offer: take it or leave it.”

 

Junhong stared at him for a moment, considering. He threw a glance toward his familiar, who was still vigorously fighting the immobility spell off. When their eyes met, Youngjae’s ones felt like a burn on his skin, his stare unblinking and intense. 

The wizard turned back toward his friend, his decision shining clearly in his mind like an evidence. 

 

“Deal.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Just a heads up: the next chapter is going to be the last of part I. :)


	8. The Savages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thing Junhong had never learnt — blame it on his total lack of classes at the Magic Academy — was that you had no more friends on battlefields.

As agreed, Youngjae had the right to take two sips of one of the finest healing potion Jongup had in his workshop, as well as one half-spoon of strengthening medicine. Junhong made sure he was feeling all right before rejoining his friend in the backyard.

 

The wizards stood face to face, around fifty-five feet away from each other, their familiars in human forms at their side. The atmosphere was quite comparable to the tense mood seen in those cowboy movies — though they were smiling at each other, their fingers were stretching to gather as much power as they could in their palms before the grand beginning. Youngjae tilted his head toward Junhong’s ear, tickling it with hot air.

 

“I can take care of the pooch, but you’re sure you will be able to put down the kid by yourself?”

“It’s not about _putting him down_.” Junhong reminded him. “I don’t know, let’s see. What is there to lose, anyway.”

“Pride. A lot of pride.”

 

The wizard cocked an eyebrow, but still couldn’t repress a sly smile. “Thanks for your support, it’s appreciated.”

 

Youngjae hummed curtly, unconvinced, before turning back toward their opponents. He stared at Daehyun with narrowed eyes, hostility radiating from his body and unpleasantly tugging at the bond he shared with Junhong. Starting to feel mildly annoyed himself, the wizard elbowed his companion.

 

“Stop it, man.” Youngjae’s eyelashes fluttered close slowly as he dragged a profound intake of air in his lungs. “What is it, between Daehyun and you?”

“He’s a savage.”

“He’s not a  _savage_ . He’s one of us,  _one of yours_ , and I’m pretty sure he means no harm.”

 “Ah!” Youngjae let out a high-pitched shriek of indignation. “He tried to rip open my throat hardly thirty minutes ago!”

“You had it coming.”

 

Youngjae’s jaw was left hanging open in offence, which made Junhong laugh perhaps louder than he should have.

 

“Trust me, Youngjae.” Junhong marked a pause to clear his throat. “Daehyun is genuinely good at heart, and loyal. If you try to go past your apprehension, you will see how much of a dear friend he could actually be, to you.”

The familiar’s tail twitched as he crossed his arms. “We will see how much of a _dear friend_ he will be after I crush his bones back to dust.”

 

Junhong could feel the other’s unjustified hatred waver though, and offered him an amused smile.

 

“Ready?” Jongup called from afar.

 

He nodded, a grin sprawled out on his face as he felt Youngjae transform on his right.

  
  


The fight had nothing extravagant at first — both wizards bombarded each other alternately, dodging attacks thrown their way easily, installing themselves in a humdrum dynamic. Junhong had lost focus on what the familiars were doing, but if Youngjae’s enraged roars were enough indication, he would say they were in the same situation as their owners — without one getting the upper-hand, bored, frustrated.

    

Growing impatient, Junhong tried a different approach — after Jongup had launched another unsuccessful attack, the younger pounced on him as fast as he could. He expected  to see some kind of surprise in the other’s eyes, but only found there a hint of amusement. Junhong dodged a stardust ball thrown his way as he prepared one of his own, still running toward his opponent; time seemed to have slowed down way too much to his liking.

 

As the younger got dangerously close to him, Jongup swiftly turned around and dashed toward the library’s door, as though he was trying to flee away from the fight. Junhong was taken aback by the move, also quite frightened by the fact he couldn’t observe his friend’s hands anymore — he couldn’t know if the other was preparing an attack, or simply running away. He therefore increased his effort, pushing harder on his legs in order to go faster, to be quicker.

    

However, when Jongup arrived at level of the door, he came to a sudden halt. Junhong merely had the time to stop his steps before his body clashed against the other’s back, sending them both face first into the wall. The younger didn’t have any time to proceed what that had happened before he felt a burning sensation blazing his chest.

 

It took him a second, really — he first took a glimpse of Jongup’s face, he saw his eyes, his childish smile, and he wondered when the latter had found the time to turn around to face him. Then, he noticed the other’s hand on his chest, glowing a dangerous shade of red, and he saw his own shirt turn black from the flaming touch. Junhong tried to launch the magical matter he had carefully gathered in his palm, yet didn’t find enough strength in him to do so; he felt it grow weaker, crawling back into his own body painfully. The younger closed his eyes, jaw tensing, and let out a choked scream full of ache.

 

As he could feel his consciousness declining at a disconcerting speed, the burning feeling suddenly stopped. Junhong was projected roughly ten feet away from Jongup, that had now, he realised in the blink of an eye, Youngjae’s jaw firmly clasped around his calf. The panther shook the wizard with enough strength to draw out a torrent of blood, but didn’t have the time to cause further damage as Daehyun caught up with them and pounced on the feline. The latter managed to hit him in the muzzle, all claws out, before turning tails and leading him away from the wizards.

 

Junhong stood up, still fairly startled. Jongup saw him, and decided to go back to the battle, but as he tried to get back on his feet a distressed whine of pain escaped his lips. Fight forgotten, the other ran toward him to help.

A thing Junhong had never learnt — blame it on his total lack of classes at the Magic Academy — was that you had no more friends on battlefields.

 

He had merely reached him that a fireball hit him on the right arm, making him efficiently stumble. Jongup crawled toward him, sending another fireball, a weaker one, on his left shoulder. Junhong fell to his knee while trying to avoid it, leaving his opponent another opportunity to launch a new scorching sphere on him.

 

Junhong was still reduced to a gasping mess, hunching over himself, by the time Jongup managed to stand up. He politely waited for him to recover though, as his manners forbade him to hit a fallen warrior — it was common sense, really, among gentlemen. And even if he had to concede faking pain to endear an opponent was a low blow, it was still a fairly common tactic.

He hadn’t expected the younger to use it against him though — Junhong suddenly snapped his head up, granting him a glacially determined look, before throwing a stardust orb to his chest. Jongup, shaken, took two steps back to still himself; he eventually had to lean on the wall behind him, as the other jumped back on his feet with ease.

 

Junhong didn’t let him any time to ponder about an offensive this time, only leaving him pain, as he repeatedly threw him balls after balls of energy. Each hurt more than the precedent one, as the itch of the thin particles lingered on his skin for longer than what was usual; the wizard was manipulating them molecule by molecule, making them ascend and descend slowly, adding in more and more with each orb. They left sharp, clean cuts on their wakes, along with a distressing feeling of bone-deep prickling.

Jongup didn’t know celestial matter could be _this_ painful, but he had to admit the other had a pretty creative, very uncommon way of using it, of torturing him slowly. One he had never heard of, even.

 

He screamed, whimpered, and implored, but the younger wizard just wouldn’t quit it. He kept his left hand wave up and down, sometimes flicking two fingers to make the fragments press deeper against his skin, against his _flesh_. Junhong kept his serious, cold expression during the whole process, never once showing any kind of compassion, remorse, or even satisfaction into tormenting his friend.

 

Further down the backyard, a deafening high-pitched sound was heard, followed by the distinct noise of hissing and roaring — Junhong understood Youngjae finally succeeded into wrenching the upper-hand away from the hound, and smiled proudly. He released his hold on Jongup, letting him slide down the wall a little, and with one mere raise of his right hand, concealed him in a circle of light that tightened slowly around him. The brune boy looked at him with a hint of fear and panic, but he didn’t back down, and with a last aggressive movement, made the trap close upon him; he convulsed as a violent electric charge ran through his whole body, then fell on the ground, still conscious yet completely spent.

 

Junhong didn’t grant him one more look as he turned around, eagerly searching for his familiar; which he found rather easily. The huge feline had the wolf held in a tight grip by the neck, and was quickly running toward him, his tail waving lazily. Once at his feet, he carelessly dropped the canine’s dirty and bleeding figure on the ground.

 

Youngjae didn’t wait one second before switching back to his human form. He offered Junhong the most heartfelt smile he had ever seen on him, and couldn’t help but answer him with the same cheerfulness. 

“I guess that’s a tie then?” Youngjae joked.

Junhong rolled his eyes, amused, before turning around and picking his friend off the ground. He held him close to his chest as he carried him back inside the library, then carefully set him down on a chair inside; he brought him a phial of energising potion, and forced Youngjae to have one of his own as well before sending him take care of the wolf. Jongup allegedly drank it in one gulp and let out a sigh of content.

 

“It still hurts,” He muttered tiredly.

“I’m sorry.” And Junhong was, somehow, even if only a little. Maybe had he been too excessive, maybe had he gone too far; he still lacked hindsight and objectivity. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than after our previous battle. Worse than on a Monday morning. Somewhere in between.”

The other let out a silent chuckle. “You just need a good rest.”

 

Jongup nodded, letting his head fall back on the table as Junhong took a seat on the chair next to his. They stayed in a comfortable silence for a while, though the younger started to feel slightly agitated from thinking back about their fight. He wondered if his friend was mad at him, worried he would have hurt him more than he realised; but his concern was muffled by another distinct feeling of anger and resentment that he couldn’t quite explain.

 

“Not so bad for a worthless human though, huh?”

The elder slowly sat back up, holding his gaze, considering. “I knew it.”

“You knew what?”

“You’re still mad at me.” Jongup accused, disappointment piercing his voice; which  only fuelled his friend’s own annoyance.

“Maybe a little, yeah.” He admitted dryly. “Not like you could hold it against me, now, can you?” 

“I apologised, Junhong. I told you it wasn’t what I meant.”

“ _And_ , I answered I knew it was exactly what you meant.”

Jongup sighed impatiently. “Face it brother, you can’t learn in one year what other wizards have spent their whole lives mastering. You’ve got a familiar now, and that’s great, I admit that was unexpected, but great.” He tapped two of his fingers on the wooden surface, as to emphasise his say. “You’re still _lacking_ though. You wouldn’t survive at the Magic Academy, why can’t you just trust me on this? Is it too much to ask for?”

“How about you,” Junhong’s voice rose impossibly high with rage. “Why can’t you acknowledge my skills? Why can’t you just accept that I’ve surpassed you long ago, _is it too much to ask for?_ ”

Jongup stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, disbelief emanating from him in violent waves.

“You can’t go to the Land, I’m serious.” He took a deep, calming breath before adding with finality, “You know nothing about our culture.”

“I know enough.”

“Then, what do we believe in, Junhong? Tell me what are the odds and customs in this Land we belong to. Who rules, who do we consider as underclassmen? Say, what is our national sport? Our most famous poet? Do we have feminism? Do we sing at the karaoke?”

    

Junhong eyed him doubtfully, as though he didn’t know if he was supposed to reply or not. Much like a sulking child, he chose to avert his gaze defensively and scowl at the ground while waiting for the other to pursue.

 

“Whatever, Junhong. Pass the jury, join the Magic Academy if you must — I’m out.”

He stood up, pushed his chair back with a loud rasping sound, and limped out of the  room without looking back; the younger took it as one more outrage. He stayed alone for a while, still fuming, the same thoughts going round in his head, until finally Youngjae came to sit beside him, on the spot Jongup had left vacant.

 

“Rough day?” He tilted his head, lids half-closed.

“Known worse.” Junhong frowned, then added, his tone full of reproach, “Didn’t I give you clothes this morning? Why are you naked, _again_?” 

“I shifted twice today, and therefore tore them apart. I could run around the backyard to pick up some pieces of fabric but I doubt you would be able to sew them back together.” Youngjae’s lips curved into a tender smile as he made his chin rest lazily on the palm of his hand. “Why? Does it make you feel all hot and bothered?”

Junhong flinched. “More like embarrassed for you.”

“What do you mean?” Youngjae’s grin was replaced by a frown, voice wavering in confusion.

 

Glad he had retrieved the upper-hand, Junhong considered it a great time to make his exit, a complacent smirk stuck on his lips as he rose to his feet. The feline lost no time in following him, trailing tightly on his heels, insisting on more justifications in regard of the blatant insult.

 

 

Once home, they both fell together on the couch, the familiar’s legs resting on top of his thighs as their shoulders were pressed together firmly. Junhong wouldn’t have imagined it another way; the sole touch felt soothing, tender, reassuring. Not like a mother would have been to her kid, something perhaps even stronger; Youngjae felt like light in darkness, hope in war, warmth in winter, like a piece of his that had been missing his whole life. And wasn’t it disturbing? Youngjae was still a stranger.

    

“What are you thinking about?” The boy purred, resting his forehead against the other’s shoulder. “You’re feeling weird.”

“Are you sure you want to keep the bond?”

“Yes.” The latter shifted closer as to prove his commitment.

“Would you follow me to the Magic Academy?” Junhong did his best to keep his torso immobile as he turned his head, trying to take a peek past the elder’s hair. His hand, which had been resting flat on the other boy’s lower back, started to run circles on his skin.

“Yes.”

“Should I call them?” He sighed. “I don’t even know how to do this. Books always assume wizards know everything about the Land. How to go there, how to communicate with them, how are things there. How the Land actually works.”

 

Youngjae didn’t answer immediately, his head still resting against the other’s shirt. “You have to summon a council at the Magic Academy. They will ask you to send them a resume, a long explanation of what you’ve accomplished in the human territory, and to summarise your family tree and your familiar’s. Then convoke you in order to take exams, and all.”

 

“Sounds easy.” Junhong hummed pensively. “How do I ‘summon a council’?”

“Depends on who you want to call. I don’t remember what’s the Admission office’s number.” Youngjae snickered, raising his head to stare at Junhong straight in the eyes. “Maybe you should check the Yellow Pages.”

 “Admission office’s number? Are you kidding me?”

“The Land has phone lines. Progress, magic, miracle! I understand your feelings, I was dazed at first too.” The familiar’s tails waved regularly behind his back, mischief lighting up his eyes.

 

Junhong smiled, not quite as offended as he could have been by the other’s mockery, and slapped his thigh jokingly, careful not to hurt him. They stared at each other blissfully for a long while, the wizard’s right hand matching the pattern of his left one, tracing small circles on the other’s leg. Time seemed to flee sparsely, leaving them alone with the overwhelming satisfaction that their presence by each other’s side brought them.

 

“You could ask Jongup if he has a directory of Magical Services and their phone numbers.” Youngjae finally drawled out, making the other tense.

“No, no. This time, Jongup and I are really over.” Junhong shook his head while lowering his eyes. “He wouldn’t help, anyway.”

“Then I guess I will have to ask Daehyun.”

The wizard snapped his gaze back to him quickly, hands freezing. “You guys are friends now?”

“Let’s say our ‘after-battle-pillow-talk’ went better than yours and Jongup’s.” He shrugged, tone rather snobbish. “There’s no being on this planet that I can’t tame with a bit of praise and some flirtatious blinks. He was at my feet in no time.”

“Oh yeah, I bet.”

“Is that _Jealousy_ I smell in your cologne?” The familiar brought his head closer to the other’s throat, nose stroking the tense skin above his veins, and mockingly sniffed twice. “You’re wearing it like no one else does.”

Junhong rolled his eyes. “Jealous, sure. Why would I even be?”

“Now, now, don’t be hurtful.” Youngjae’s tail fell on Junhong’s laps, rejoining his legs as he let out a content sigh. “Let’s go back to the library tomorrow. Daehyun will bring us everything that we need, and Jongup won’t even know.”

“You believe Daehyun would help us?”

“Maybe we will have to offer him something in return.” Youngjae’s gaze fell on his hands as he thought about it more thoroughly.

“No I mean, they’re close, you know. I doubt Daehyun would do anything so sneaky behind Jongup’s back.”

 

Youngjae raised his head, barely enough to look at Junhong through his eyelashes, and gave him a lopsided grin. “He will.” And there was no room for any argument, no room for doubt or disagreement when he took this suave voice of his, so the wizard just complied.

 

“We need to think about a plan, then.”

 

And thinking about a plan they did, though the outcome was certainly not the one they had expected. The next day, Junhong stayed in the car as they had agreed the night before, and watched his familiar sneak in the athenaeum by a window left open on the third floor. Once his tail had completely disappeared behind him, all the young man had to do was wait for his return. But it felt like forever.

 

His head was lolling back, leaning on the headrest, sometimes annoyingly sliding to the side and stretching his neck painfully in the process. His eyes rolled from the dashboard to the headliner, from the headliner to the gearstick, and from the gearstick back to the dashboard. Junhong felt like he could die of boredom right there and then.

 

As he was dozing off, however, the library’s huge doors were slammed open, and he was more than surprised to see Jongup walking out, limping heavily. He was dragging the jaguar behind him, the fur around his neck in firm grip. Junhong was quick to push himself out of the car.

 

“What the hell?!”

“I can’t believe you, Junhong!” The latter spat, literally, voice full of rage. Daehyun, in his wolf form, sat beside his legs, stare defying the youngest wizard. “Even for you, that’s a whole new level of low.”

Jongup let go of Youngjae, who crashed flat against the ground. He caught his friend’s troubled glance and snickered.

“Oh, don’t worry, just a little anaesthetising spell. Not his first one, is it?”

“Why did you knock him out, what was that for?!”

“Really, now? Your familiar just broke into my house to steal stuffs from me, and you dare to ask?” Jongup’s eyes fell on Daehyun, whose tail started to swing on the ground. He pursued, voice lower and calmer. “And trying to corrupt my wolf wasn’t that much of a smart move, by the way.”

Junhong sighed, eyes falling shut. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Glad to hear.”

 

Jongup sighed, his right hand leaving his side as he flickered two of his fingers under Junhong’s nose. As the latter was about to ask what was going on, he heard an alarmingly loud noise and turned around to see his car’s passenger door being blown open.

 

“What the hell are you doing? We’re in the street!” The youngest wizard half yelled, half whispered, swiftly leaping to his car’s side in order to close it.

“And I have a wolf _and_ a panther at my feet. Some nice circus shit going on down there!” Jongup bitterly bit back, smashing the doors back open with a new wave of his fingers. He bent down to grab Youngjae by the head, yet stopped for a second — he sent an bitter glance up to his friend. “So are you going to help me put your familiar back in your car or what?”

 

Junhong needed no more to take action. He hurriedly got around the feline’s body and grabbed it by the flanks, embracing its middle to carry it. They both grunted as they pushed the panther further on the back seat, but the young wizard had to admit that Youngjae was way easier to carry with someone else’s help.

    

Once the door was shut anew, Junhong sheepishly avoided the elder’s gaze, fidgeting with his car keys.

 

“So…” He murmured. “I’m gonna’ go. Sorry again.”

 

As he was turning around, ready to leave, he felt Jongup’s warm hand clutch at his arm.

 

“Hold on.” Jongup immediately let go, as though the mere contact of their skins touching burnt him. “I’m going to give you one hour. You go back to your place, wake your familiar up, pack your bags and everything you own, empty your bank accounts, then come back here.”

 

Junhong’s face must have betrayed his confusion, because Jongup’s scowl deepened. He let out an annoyed breath that made the youngest’s hairs raise on his arms.

 

“I’m not leaving you alone. We’re going together.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me well — we’re going to the Land together.”

 

Junhong’s smile grew impossibly wide, so much that he believed it would split his face in half. Swiftly, he wrapped his arms around Jongup’s shoulders, and squeezed him with all of his strength.

 

“Thank you so much!”

“I said, ‘ _one hour_ ’ brother.” The eldest exhaled, pushing his friend away.

 

As he watched Junhong run back to his car with the goofiest grin he had ever seen him wear, the wizard could feel Daehyun’s glare on him. With his eyes still set on his friend’s car going off, slowly disappearing in the distance, he groaned in frustration.

 

“He was going to go there, anyway. So I’d rather be with him.”

Daehyun quietly mumbled.

“I’m sure he believes the Land is some kind of _Harry Potter_ or _Narnia_ shit. He would be killed as soon as he crossed the border.”

The wolf’s reply, again, was a low and muffled rumble.

“I can feel you judging me, Daehyun.” Jongup muttered before ruffling his hair in irritation. Then, he quickly turned around and walked back into the library, calling behind him, “c’m’here boy, we’ve got things to pack.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is long overdue, haha... Things got busy for me, I'm sorry. :')


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